


The Price of her Mouth

by mathildia



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Captain Swan BroTP, Clothing Porn, Cunnilingus, Dark, Dildos, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Edging, Execution, F/F, Forced Marriage, Hookfire - Freeform, Manipulation, Masochism, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Torture, Oral Sex, Sadism, Seduction, Sex Work, Spanking, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Topping from the Bottom, Torture, Vaginal Fisting, What pirates do, Whipping, crotch ropes, dangerous object insertion, extreme knife play, golden hook, pirates being tortured, slight swanfire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/pseuds/mathildia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enchanted Forest set, filthy Swan Queen kink.</p><p>Princess!Emma/Whore!Regina</p><p>“I’m a whore,” Regina said - and Emma managed not to gasp with shock, <i>just</i>. “I’m here looking for clients. I could do with a couple of new regulars. Rich pickings, royal weddings.” She smiled broadly, her teeth glittered. And Emma thought herself, for a moment, to be in another world. A world where those teeth had sunk into her flesh and thousand, thousand times. Where the name <i>Regina</i> was one she knew well, had cried out as often as she had her own mother’s.</p><p>Regina had smiled so widely Emma could see at the back of her mouth two gold teeth. Everything about this woman was wrong. Her skin was darker than a lady’s should be. Her eyes too thickly lined with black. Her dress covered too much of her, and yet revealed everything in the way it clung to her body. Her hair was too high. Her voice was too loud. The bangles that glittered at her wrists almost looked like something peasants might wear. And her dress was the wrong colour. It all made her beautiful.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>...With something of the Gothic pastiche about it, if you care for that sort of thing.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU Rumpelstiltskin managed to rescue Baelfire from The Jolly Roger in Neverland. So he had no reason to meddle in Regina’s life. Cora didn’t have magic and was in no position to get her daughter married to a king, and Regina ran off with Daniel. It didn’t last. 
> 
> Meanwhile, with no curse, Emma was raised a royal princess.
> 
> But at some point, her parents had done a terrible deal with The Dark One.

Emma looked at the other woman on the balcony, slightly shocked. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be here - but there she was, perched on the stone balustrade, a glass in her hand. Also…

“Are you wearing…? Are you wearing black?” Emma squinted. It was dark out here. She couldn’t be sure of the dress colour. Not as sure as she could be of the fact the woman was simply startling, even in this light. Black hair and perfect skin - and that scandalous dress. “Black to a wedding.”

The woman looked up. “It’s actually midnight blue, darling. Although the fabric looks black under the moonlight, I do concur.”

Most women who are even a little pretty would look good in the tight, dramatic gown the woman wore. But on her, the drape and fall of the fabric was perfection. Like water flowing over her. Like water, except, there was nothing clean about it. Where she was twisted to sit on the stone, the hug of it on her behind, it made Emma’s mouth dry a little. 

Emma wished she was wearing something like it. Next to the woman’s dress, Emma’s wedding dress looked like something a child would wear to a party. “But this is a wedding and that’s not really and appropriate colour, still. For a wedding.”

The woman shrugged. “Isn’t it?” She slipped off her perch and approached where Emma was still stood, just outside the balcony doors, and extended a gloved hand. “Regina. And do you know you keep saying ‘wedding’?”

Emma took her hand shook it, “Emma,” she said, then feeling a note of panic in her voice as she added, “it’s my wedding.”

“Yes,” said the woman. “I know. I saw you. In your wedding. Also, you are wearing a wedding dress. You’re the princess, aren’t you, darling? The princess who has just married the Dark One’s son. A forced marriage, isn’t it?” Regina tilted her head and pouted with a kind of mock sadness. “Such barbarism.”

Emma nodded. “Arranged. Not forced. It’s just that… Well, my parents, they didn’t think he’d every get him back, so it didn’t seem such a bad deal. He’d been gone _centuries_ , they say… And he’s actually surprisingly nice. For the son of a… of a demon.”

Regina raised her eyebrows. “Is he now?” And she reached out and touched Emma’s waist. There were seven layers of silk and a corset between Emma’s skin and the woman’s hand, but it still burned. The woman stroked her, very lightly. “And was it some sweet idea of a joke, to dress you like a tiny slip of golden sunshine as you were shackled to that terrible creature’s only child. Such a tragedy. And will you be living with him? In his terrible fortress?”

“The Dark Castle?” Emma nodded. She hadn’t thought about much beyond the wedding in the run up to the day itself. “Yes. I believe we travel there in the morning.”

Regina toyed with her drink. “Dark Castle,” she said, as if the very name annoyed her. "Poor princess. Such a tale, betrothed to a man missing for centuries then The Dark One finds him aboard a pirate ship in another world. Almost impossible to believe such a thing. I do wonder what happened those terrible pirates? Do you think he killed them all? Hung them all from their own rigging. I don’t envy their fate, if they’d set hands on his son. And pirates, you know what pirates do. Terrible creatures, “ she said, as if she _knew_. ”They’d surely have raped him. A prize like that, he’d be keeping their dicks warm as soon as his feet touched the deck, if they even did.” Regina’s eyes were glittering, like what she was saying was delicious. Emma had never heard anyone talk of such things before. Pirates, abduction, rape. Her skin was prickling. “You think he slayed them all for putting his son to his knees for fucking?”

“No,” said Emma bluntly. “I think he brought them back to torture for months.”

“Torture! Oh, princess!” Regina’s eyes went wide, although Emma was sure her shock was forced. “And what would a princess know of such things?”

“I’ve studied history. And it’s really fine,” Emma made herself smile, even laugh a little, just lightly. “The wedding, I mean, not what’s happened to those pirates. You, er, you don’t need to worry about it. So,” said Emma, swallowing again - _was she swallowing too much?_ “should I know you? Are you a here for…” she couldn’t work out quite how to say it. _A woman alone, a woman she didn’t recognise. What was she doing here?_

“I’m a whore,” Regina said - and Emma managed not to gasp with shock, _just_. “I’m here looking for clients. I could do with a couple of new regulars. Rich pickings, royal weddings.” She smiled broadly and her teeth glittered. And Emma thought herself, for a moment, to be in another world. A world where those teeth had sunk into her flesh and thousand, thousand times. Where the name _Regina_ was one she knew well, had cried out as often as she had her own mother’s. 

Regina had smiled so widely Emma could see at the back of her mouth two gold teeth. Everything about this woman was wrong. Her skin was darker than a lady’s should be. Her eyes too thickly lined with black. Her dress covered too much of her skin, and yet revealed everything in the way it clung to her body. Her hair was too high. Her voice was too loud. The bangles that glittered at her wrists almost looked like something peasants might wear. And her dress was the wrong colour. It all made her beautiful. 

And she was a whore. This creation in front of Emma was for sale.

“Really. Oh. Oh my.” Emma spluttered her words then checked herself. And breathed. _What to even, where to start?_ “So what are you doing out here on the balcony?”

Regina’s eyebrows quirked up again. “What indeed? Why, when the only person out here is you!” She dropped into a curtsey so overblown that had to be a joke. “Princess.”

“Right,” said Emma. _This was ridiculous…? Wasn’t it?_ She wasn’t sure what this was. She couldn’t remember the last time another person had disarmed her like this. But was it her alarming frankness about why she was here? Or was it something else? She was so very beautiful.

And she didn’t know why she said it. Couldn’t think why she hadn’t stopped herself. 

“Are you expensive?” 

But then it was said, and then it was too late.

“Are you making a genuine enquiry?” Regina raised those perfect eyebrows. Emma could’t tell if she was teasing or not.

“Hardly. I mean, no. Sorry, no. No I’m not. I can’t anyway. And, obviously, it’s my wedding day, so I wouldn’t anyway. Even if I was. And I’m just, just curious.”

Regina nodded, dipped her finger into her drink and took it, glistening, to her lips. “It depends,” she said, drawing her finger away. “I cost more in palaces than I do by the docks when the navy returns.” And, the way she looked at Emma then. “Some things I don’t mind dropping my prices for.”

Emma swallowed. And looked back. Looked like it burned.

Regina stroked Emma's waist again. “Fine. Three gold. For an hour. An hour is long enough, by the way, don’t worry about that, but you can afford longer, if you wish it. You, princess, look like a woman who longs to be fucked properly by someone who knows what they are doing. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I make it my business to be able to spot these things. I can do it extremely hard, when that’s required. All in the hips.” Regina gave a filthy little thrust, so close it made Emma's dress rustle, and Emma found herself breathing in sharply. Regina looked at Emma then and her eyes seemed to be lit with lust. “It’s a skill doing that right. It takes practice. I’ve had a lot. Is that what you like?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. 

She did know. She wasn’t a maid. There had been men in her bed: stable hands and kitchen boys. She liked it. She liked the way they blushed before her and whispered deferantly, called her princess, _highness_ \- even with their faces pressed between her legs. This woman, though? Would she do that? Would she respond to commands? Would she sink to her knees, “Yes, your highness,” on her breath as she pressed her flat tongue to Emma’s hot cunt? Lick at her desperately, like a woman who had been dying of thirst?

Emma’s experience had come because her mother, The Queen, had said it was best to know about these things. Her mother’s own mother, had been a cold, precise woman, concerned with correct behaviour. She and Snow had grown distant over the years and Emma was sure her mother had known no touch but her father’s. Maybe this was her way of experiencing what she’d missed, encouraging Emma to take lovers, instructing her in a low, cautious voice, to ensure all seed was spilt outside her body. 

All that had stopped the doomed day Rumpelstiltskin returned to this realm with long lost Baelfire, plucked from the vicious jaws of pirates, and sent a message reminding her parents of their half-forgotten deal. Snow had been frantic that Rumpelstiltskin would know Emma wasn’t pure - he was, she’d said, a very powerful wizard - but when he’d come and seen her in her chambers he had simply looked her over and said casually, “I see, Queen Snow White, you have failed in your duty as a mother.”

Snow had been shaking with fear. “I didn’t know, Dark One. We thought you’d never return. She’s a good girl. Really. I-I’m sorry.”

“Ah, dearie, if it mattered to me your sweet child would be lying dead.” He circled Emma once again, skin glittering, teeth like crumbling gravestones. “All that matters now is that my son sire a child with your daughter. So, as long as she has not been fucked so hard, by so many burly peasants that it has ruptured her _womb_ …” The word womb became a hoot in The Dark One’s strange cadence, then a laugh. “Tell me, dearie,” he said, looking at Emma, “do you bleed every month?”

“Yes, yes,” said Snow, before Emma could speak. “She bleeds. I have kept her last rags if you need to see-“

Rumpelstiltskin cut her off. “I didn't ask you, I asked-“

And suddenly he was right in front of Emma. His face in hers. Not human and not demon.

“-her! _Do you bleed, girl_?” He yelled it into her face.

“Yes,” Emma had stammered. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. She will wed my son in three months. He will enjoy her, I think.” 

Emma had been chaste for those three months, all but locked in her rooms. But Regina was quite right. She did like it hard. She really did. She liked it all. Emma squinted at Regina, only inches away, lit by the moon and the scraps of light coming through the gauzy curtains of the balcony doors. “But how can you fuck me. You don’t have… You don’t have a dick, do you?”

“Don’t I?” Regina smiled.

Emma swallowed. Unsure what that could even mean. “Three gold? And that’s for anything? You’ll do anything?”

“No, not for anything. I’ll fuck you for that, but I do I have specialisms. They cost more.”

“What specialisms?”

“My -” tiny pause, “- mouth.”

“Your mouth? How much is your mouth?” Emma was shivering now. Her whole body. She didn’t know if it was obvious, and she hoped it was the cold.

Regina ran her teeth over her top lip. Her hand was still on Emma’s waist. “Ten. Ten gold, princess.”

“What! Ten gold!”

Regina touched Emma’s chin with her free hand and nodded. “That’s right. And that’s for half an hour.”

It was getting colder on the balcony. Emma’s wedding dress had short puffy sleeves that only covered her shoulders. She shivered more, sparks of it, up and down her spine. _What was happening?_ “Why so much?”

Regina didn’t seem to be feeling the cold at all. Her dress covered almost all of her, although the neckline showed a lot of impressive cleavage under tight lace. “Because it’s worth it.”

“People will really pay that much more for it? People do.”

“Oh yes. They do. They pay that much for my mouth.” She slipped her tongue over her lower lip. It was the sexiest thing Emma had ever seen.

“What’s so good about it? About your mouth?”

“I know what I’m doing. I know _exactly_ what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure you do. But, even then, what could you do with it that could be worth so much?” Emma was still shivering. Perhaps shivering even more. She tried to keep the shiver out of her _voice._

“Princess, I can create the greatest physical sensation your body is capable of. With my tongue.” She smiled. It was the same smile she’d been smiling all along but now it was filthy. “Not only that. I can take you to the brink of it, and hold you there, on that edge, until you’re sobbing and begging to come, and when you can’t take it anymore, I can twist my tongue and tip you over, and, at first, you’ll think what’s happening is just the greatest, most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt, but then it won’t end. It will just… keep…going. I can hold you, in that, as long as I want. Just with my mouth on you. You’ll start begging to stop coming, you’ll start trying to push me away, but I’m strong and you’ll be helpless. And I’ll make you peak so hard and for so long it’ll be like a kind of torture. I won’t stop until you lose your voice from begging. And then,” her face was only inches from Emma's now, “when you can stand again, you’ll pay me my money and you’ll look me in the eye and tell me, yes, you’re right, you are worth it.” Regina’s eyebrows went up and down again, and Emma could feel her breath.

“You’ve got your sales pitch all worked out then,” Emma said, hoping to sound cool, but her voice was throaty and rough.

“You won’t regret it, my princess.”

“Ten gold. That’s a lot of money for just half an hour.”

She was so close now it felt, to Emma, like she was going to kiss her. But she didn’t. She slipped a fluted oblong of engraved silver into the low neckline of Emma’s wedding dress. “If you use this and call my name. I’ll hear you.”

Emma looked down at the sparkle of metal visible through the lace. “It’s magic?”

“Just a little.” And Regina stared at Emma again. Into her eyes and then to her lips, and then…

… The first _boom_ was loud, the next sound a twitter of little crackling noises. Emma sprung back, turning to see the black sky over the balcony alight with colour. “The Dark One’s fireworks! I must go. I should be standing with Baelfire.”

Emma went to turn away, but Regina grabbed her wrist and pulled her close again. So close their bodies were crushed together, Emma almost bare breasts and Regina’s lace covered tits. “One last thing, princess,” Regina whispered. “Just one thing. Before you go. Are you glad to be a princess, or would you rather be a knight? Would you rather don armour and go a slay a dragon? Return to your castle to find me in your bed, waiting for you, aching, chaste all the time you were gone, keening for you touch? Would you like to fuck me like that princess? My knight? With your blood still up from the danger you’d faced? Would you like to be rough with me? Tongue me until I begged? Fuck your whole hand into me, hard, to see me scream and take it? Grind against me until I came, with your hands tight around my neck? Would you like that, princess? I can give you that. Would you like… that?” Regina’s pelvis jerked against Emma’s just once and Emma moaned. “You can answer.”

Emma’s mouth was open. Her chin was on Regina’s shoulder and she was looking at the fireworks. She didn’t know what she was going to say until she whispered, “Yes.”

Regina released her, took a step away. “Enjoy your wedding night, princess.” And then her voice dropped to almost nothing. “Ask him about what the pirates did.”


	2. Chapter 2

Prince James, Queen Consort, Emma’s father, took her that night, to the finest guest bedroom they had. He held her hand on the stone staircase like she was a child. “He’s not a bad man, little bluebird,” he said as he knocked at the door. Knocked, in his own castle. “His father, you must be careful of, but I have spoken with Baelfire many times and he is no worse than any other man, better than many. Do as he says, though. He is your husband now.”

Emma smiled at her father, tried to make him feel better. “It’s fine, father. He’s fine. It is not, it’s not so bad.”

“I was betrothed,” said her father, knocking again. “I left her. I left her so I could marry your mother. There was almost a war over it. I’m not telling you that because I think you ought to do so, bluebird. This is a different situation, far more grave. And you must do this. I’m so sorry.”

And then the door opened, and there was Baelfire. Just an ordinary man.

*

Food arrived after an hour. Sent by her mother. Plates of meat and fruit. Emma laughed as she carried it to the bed, “As if we haven’t been feasting all day.

She set it on the blankets and climbed into the bed next to Baelfire, pressing a grape into her mouth, not opening her lips quite wide enough and enjoying the way it popped through them. Baelfire was a handsome man. Pale skin and dark hair. He didn’t look like his father. But his father didn’t look like a person at all. 

He had, at first, told Emma he wouldn’t touch her unless she wanted him to. Had made an earnest face and held her hand, “Not until you say.”

But Emma had shook her head. She had been three months chaste. Her mother, she realised, had known just what she was doing, locking her in that tower. She had leant forward and kissed him and, later, when she had guided him into her, he had gasped at how slick she was and she had realised that slick wasn’t from him. She had been thinking about Regina since she’d left her on the balcony.

He needed help to fuck her hard and well. He’d not lain with a woman before, perhaps. No women on that pirate ship, perhaps. She had heard someone say there were no women in that entire realm but the mermaids. After he had come, breathless inside her she had told him he wasn’t how it finished, and that he needed to kiss her now, between her legs, or she wouldn’t have a child, and he had slipped easily down to do it.

His tongue was messy and clumsy against her, but she still enjoyed it and climaxed. Climaxed as she thought of Regina and her mouth so skilled that it was worth ten gold for half an hour.

Resting her head on Baelfire’s shoulder and eating another grape, she said, “How long were you on the pirate ship?”

“I have been told it was 200 years. But when I think of it, it just feels like a day. Or perhaps the same day, over and over again.” He took a fig from the tray, pressing into it with his fingers until it split open. “It was the ship my mother died on. Those things happen in Neverland.” He pressed the dripping fig to his mouth, sucking and licking it. Emma was sure it wasn’t meant to be suggestive, but it was.

“That,” said Emma, taking a chicken leg, “makes no sense at all.” And she bit into the chicken. Perhaps she was hungry after all. There was wine with the tray. She grabbed the flask too and drunk straight from it. Swallowing a long pull of wine she said, “Were they good to you? The pirates?”

“Yes,” said Baelfire. “My mother had been, I don’t know, had been one of them somehow. I don’t really comprehend it. It’s all such and haze and what they told me and what my father told me, don’t fit together… none of it makes sense. Best to forget it, I say. Focus on the future. Us.”

Emma nodded. “Yes,” she said, “us.”

*

They arrived at The Dark Castle the following evening. They had travelled, not by magic, but in a coach, driven by The Dark One himself. It had taken far less time than it should. The castle was alive with light, torches burning furiously in every sconce. But strangely absent of any people. 

Baelfire nodded at Emma as she peered out of the coach’s small window. “Oh,” he said, “we have hardly any staff. Everything is done by magic. And my father cares not for people.”

The coach rattled to a halt. They were in a courtyard, high stone walls rising all around them. “There’s no one else here?”

“One maid,” said Baelfire, leaning over her to unlatch the coach door. “If she is a maid and not father’s inamorata. And I suppose the prisoners, if you count them. If they are even still alive. We’ve been gone a while.”

Emma climbed out of the coach, as Rumpelstiltskin was slithering down from his perch atop it. He grinned at her, “Pleasant journey, my lady?” he said as his feet hit the ground.

“Yes. Yes, thank you, sir,” she said, cursing herself for stammering. She drew herself up. “Your home is quite magnificent.”

“Why thank you,” he said, twirling around. “All my own work, don’t you know. Aha.” 

Behind Emma, Baelfire put his hand lightly on her hip, and began to steer her forward to the castle’s great doors. But as she took a step forward she heard a noise, a horrible moaning. 

Rumpelstiltskin looked up. “And _you_ will be _silent_ ,” he yelled across the courtyard in a very different, nasty voice.

Emma looked up too. In the corner of the courtyard, up off the ground a cage swung from the battlements. And in the cage was…

“There’s a man up there?” She could just make him out. A fat, middle-aged man. Half of his face as covered in dried blood, matting his hair to his skull. “Is he alright?” she said, realising her stupidity as she said it.

“I do hope not, dearie,” said Rumpelstiltskin. Emma heard Baelfire sigh behind her as he set off across the courtyard towards the cage. She couldn’t resist following, twisting away from where Baelfire held her. 

“Who is he?”

Rumpelstiltskin was looking up at the cage, almost proudly. “Oh, that’s one of the pirates who stole my son,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “I call him, Mr Lucky.”

Emma looked up at the man. The cage was so small he clearly couldn’t sit down, he was forced to stand even though, it appeared, one of his legs was broken. She swallowed. “He’s lucky?”

“Yes, lucky. All that will happen to this creature is that it will die there, in his own filth. It’s friends are not so lucky. You can give it some water, if you wish. It’s a cruelty to do so, and prolong it’s suffering, but I will allow it.” Rumpelstiltskin pointed to a bucket in the ground by the castle wall. It was half full of dirty water, and what seemed to be a piece of sponge on a long stick. Emma shook her head.

“Baelfire!” The wretched creature in the cage had cried out so suddenly Emma jumped, “Baelfire! Please! Tell The Dark One! Tell him I never touched ye.”

Emma glanced at Baelfire over her shoulder. He looked at the pirate in the cage and turned away. 

 

*

“So, princess.” Emma turned at the voice, her heart leaping when she saw Regina sitting on her bed. She hadn’t been there a second ago. “How is sweet married life?”

“How did you get in here?” Emma stammered, looking frantically around. Baelfire had left her alone her more than an hour ago, not bothering to explain where he was going. She had looked in every drawer and cupboard of this dusty bed chamber. Not even so much as a picture book to pass the time.

Regina shrugged. “I have a little magic.”

“Magic! This is The Dark Castle, it’s warded tight as thought.”

Regina squinted like this was a silly remark. “Only warded against people who haven’t been here before, happens I have. Now, come on, tell me all about it. I want to know everything.”

“I-“ Emma didn’t know what to say. Where to begin. She thought about the pirate in the cage. Regina would like that tale. Her black eyes would glitter at the wanton cruelty of it. 

But Emma didn’t say anything and Regina stood up, slipped off the bed and leant against a chest of drawers, posed perfectly to show herself to Emma. She was wearing a dark red dress, much like her midnight blue one. Cut to cling to every part of her. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, her eyes sooty-dark with make up, her lips red and glistening like blood. There was a fruit bowl on the chest of drawers. She idly picked up an orange. “I miss the wedding dress, if I’m honest,” Regina looking Emma up and down, the way her mother would before a ball.

Emma’s dress was daffodil yellow. A stupid colour, really. She bit her lip. “I do have it. We brought it with us in my glory box. I could find it.”

“Another time, my princess. We have business to discuss. Business where I am the one to dress up for you. Or-“Regina dug her thumb into the orange, bursting through the peel so juice and pulp surged up around it. “-Not.”

“What business?”

Regina pulled her thumb out of the orange and stuck it into her mouth, dripping and sticky. She spoke around it. “Perhaps business where you put me to my knees before you, and have me push my tongue into your cunt until I have no breath, and have to beg for your mercy, my princess.”

Emma made a tiny soft noise and Regina drew her thumb from her mouth with a pop.

“Or perhaps not. Perhaps it will be something else, with you.” Regina dropped the orange onto the floor. “When I meet a new client, darling, I like to propose a few different things. Gauge a few reactions.” Regina was walking towards Emma now, eyes glittering. Emma’s back was at the door. “Some people, what they like, is they like to hold me down and call me a whore. A filthy whore, a dirty fucking whore.” Regina was close enough now to put a hand on Emma’s waist.. “And they like it sometimes if they make me say it back, say, ‘I’m a filthy whore, just use me. I’m just here for you pleasure. Fuck me and hurt me and do whatever you please to me. Because I’m just a whore.’ Huh?” She cocked her head. “Would you like that? Princess?”

Emma wasn’t breathing. Her mouth was dry. _Would she?_

“Why not do it, princess. Try it. Call me a whore.”

Regina stared at Emma. And there was a moment. And then Emma said softly, “Fine.” She grabbed Regina’s free wrist, grabbed it too tight, and when Regina winced Emma felt her pussy thump. She jerked Regina close, pulling her face into hers. “Filthy. Whore,” she said, her voice quavering, but only slightly. And her pussy was suddenly like hot thick liquid. 

Regina smiled. “Keep going.”

Emma was panting, her blood rushing in her ears. “Take your fucking clothes off. Take your clothes off, whore. Stop teasing me and show me your body. I want to look at you.”

Regina’s face changed. She looked puzzled, hurt, even. She looked down at her pretty dress. “Now. Strip myself for you now? But I’ve just got here, princess.”

And Emma hit her; hit her hard, across the face. “Don’t talk back to me, whore. I’ve paid for you, and you’ll do as I tell you.”

“Sorry, princess. I’m sorry, princess.” Regina rubbed her cheek, taking a step back. “Of course.”

Emma stared, shocked, at her own hand, then at Regina’s face. “I’m sorry, I-… I don’t know why I-. Did I hurt you?“

“What? It’s fine,” Regina was smiling, her earlier, hurt expression gone. She kept rubbing her reddened cheek, “Really, this is nothing.”

“It’s not-“ Emma was still just staring at Regina, the hand that had hit Regina still frozen in front of her. “It’s not nothing.”

“Hey. Princess.” Regina took Emma’s hand, that hand that had hit her, raised it to her own lips and kissed it, slowly, her tongue slipping out of her mouth slightly. “Does it scare you, my princess? What you want to do to me? How that made you feel? Because I am tough, you know. You won’t break me. Once-“ Regina kept licking at Emma’s palm while her other hand had found her cunt, bunching up her dress and rubbing at her through he fabric. Emma moaned out. Too loud. “-once a man tied me down and he put a knife into his mouth, sucking on the hilt like it was a dick. He hissed at me to keep still and then he crouched between my legs and fucked that knife right into me. I’ve never been so still. Or so scared. I loved it, princess. What do you even think of me, a whore that could love something like that?” Regina dropped Emma’s hand and leaned in, licked a wide stripe up Emma’s face, ending with a kiss to her temple. 

For a few seconds, Emma couldn’t speak. “Can I do that to you?”

“You can do anything you want to me, princess.”


	3. Chapter 3

There was a creaking and a scrape behind Emma. Someone was trying to open the door at her back. She was panting, still, staring at Regina with her eyes wide and her nipples hard and her pussy just pulsing and pulsing at the things she had said. The ideas. The thought of this beautiful creature, tied down, laid out in front of her… of hitting her again. 

…Of hitting her again and again. Hitting her until she screamed. Until she begged for it to stop. And of not stopping, not stopping even then. She was so beautiful and so knowing and in control of everything, the thought of taking that away from her, of ripping it away. Emma shuddered, she didn’t know what these feelings could mean.

Behind Emma, the door jolted again. “Emma!” 

_Baelfire._

“Emma! Did you put something against the door?”

“Uh oh,” Regina breathed, “Daddy’s home.”

Emma stared at Regina, pressed against her. While Emma was breathing hard, could still feel the wet on her face where Regina had licked her, was so hopelessly sticky and hot between her legs, Regina stretched her dark rimmed eyes. And right then, as Emma looked at her, she vanished.

“Emma, are you alright?” The door slammed into her back harder, shoving her forward. Emma turned as Baelfire came into the room. He looked flustered and upset, “Emma. Oh, Emma, I am sorry, you had to do that for privacy. Of course, of course, a lady like you…you need a private place to withdraw to. My father and I, you must forgive us, we were not born to castles and suchlike. I am not-“ he looked down at the ground, “-I am not, in truth, a man who was ever meant to be married to a princess. Forgive me, Emma. I can learn. I am an adaptable man.”

He had paced right into the room as he spoke and he turned beside the bed. He smiled at Emma, a thin apologetic smile.

“Yes,” said Emma, carefully. “Yes. I would like, do need as a princess, my own rooms. For my-“ she swallowed, “-for my dresses and such.”

“I will talk to father about it. Or you could. He wants us both to join him for dinner, shortly.”

“Dinner? Bae, it’s so late. And the journey.” The last thing Emma wanted at this moment was dinner with Baelfire and his demon father. What she wanted was to be left alone to think about Regina and stroke herself. Emma crossed the room to where Baelfire stood by the bed. She yawned, “I’m just so tired.”

“Emma, I am sorry. It’s what father wants. And…” It was clear from Baelfire’s tone that there was no question of not doing the things he father wanted. “He has arranged something he wants us to see.”

Emma sighed and sank down onto the bed. “Does it involve another pirate?”

Baelfire sat down next to her, “Almost certainly.” He took her hand and pulled it into his lap. “I just…, I don’t know. That’s what I went to see him about. The way he’s treating them, you’d think they’d all raped me every night, but they were my friends. And he’s…” 

Emma knew what he’d been going to say. _It’s your punishment, not theirs_ , thought Emma. _It’s your punishment for leaving_. But she said nothing, just stroked Baelfire’s hand.

“They didn’t touch me, Emma. I have told him. But he won’t listen, says I can’t recall, or that I’m loyal to them because I was one of them for so long. He won’t listen to me, Emma. He never listens to me.”

“He should though,” said Emma. “He should listen to you. You are wise and you are kind.”

Baelfire smiled - it was a bashful smile. “Am I?”

“Yes,” said Emma, and she truly meant it. He was. 

“I am glad you think so. But now you must change for dinner. The food will be good and I apologise for anything else that happens.” He was wise and he was kind, Baelfire, but he was also, at least when it came to defying his father, a coward.

*

Dinner was good. After she had eaten roast meat and bread, Emma took an orange and, before she’d even realised it, had pressed her thumb right through the peel like Regina had done, and then Baelfire took it and and peeled it for her, while she was asking about her own chamber.

Rumpelstiltskin cocked his head like a predator, “Oh! The endless things a princess needs! But if you so desire it, dearie. But of course, but of course. You shall have the south tower. I will have the maid see to it in the morning. But that will be all you get. There will be no Ladies in Waiting or handsome manservants for you now. A princess sold as a chattel must learn to compromise, limit her desires.”

Baelfire placed the peeled orange on Emma’s plate. “She’s not a chattel.”

“Bae, let us not, debate the status of your bride again,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “In any case, I have something you kids need to see.” As he spoke, he dropped his fork onto his plate with an obnoxious clatter, and stood up.

Baelfire sighed and stood up too. He nodded at Emma to do the same. And then Emma followed Baelfire followed Rumpelstiltskin into the next room. A library walled with books, dark and shadowy, lit only by a candelabra, burning bright on a low table. Next to the table was a stool and balanced on the stool, with his hands roped and a noose around his neck, was another half-dead pirate. There was a twisted wad of cloth around his head, stuffed between his lips and drawn so tightly there was blood at the corners of the wretch’s mouth. His eyes were wild. As they entered he stared only at Baelfire, trying to speak to him, but the sound was so muffled as to mean nothing. Baelfire looked paler than ever.

“I thought,” said Rumpelstiltskin, as he approached the stool, “I would gag this one. No shouting at my son, for you, _matey_.” And he got near enough to the stool to kick it, just enough that the pirate had to jerk around to stay upon it. “So,” Rumpelstiltskin spun around. “Here is tonight’s game. We take it in turns to kick the stool, kick hard or kick soft, but if the pirate dies, dear children, you lose.”

This pirate was tall and slender, younger than the one outside and with messy dirty blond hair and a gingerish beard on his lined face. Emma looked at him, right into her eyes. Her mouth was a little dry and the thrill of this terrible game. _This truly was an evil place_.“And what do we lose, sir?” she said. “If we lose?”

“Interesting point, dearie. What could the forfeits be? If you lose, Princess Emma, you lose those private rooms in the south tower. And, how about, if Baelfire loses he will agree to call me ‘papa’ from now on.” He grinned at Baelfire, who shuddered.

“I’m not doing this,” muttered Baelfire. Rumpelstiltskin ignored him.

“And if you lose?” said Emma.

“Me? Well I won’t lose, will I, dearie? I am the master of this game.” And he reached out an ran a finger down one of the pirates shaking legs.

“But if you do?” said Emma, taking a step closer to the stool. “Just to make it interesting.”

Baelfire spoke behind her, as clear as she had yet heard him speak. “Then he’ll let one of them go, one of the pirates. If he loses.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s face twisted into something like a smile. “No. Bae. Enough of this.”

“But why not?” said Emma, “You said you wouldn’t lose.” And she gave the stool an gentle kick that rocked it enough to make the pirate scuffle. “Besides,” she said, looking at at Rumpelstiltskin’s grinning face, “it’s the only way Bae will play, isn’t it?”

She looked over her shoulder at Baelfire. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, that’s right.”

“I see, well, then it’s agreed. And as we have both had a turn, Baelfire, it’s time for you to come and punish this creature.”

Emma could see Baelfire’s shoulder’s shake with anger, but he stalked forward and gave the stool a very gentle kick. 

“Of course,” said Rumpelstiltskin, taking a couple of steps back. “You are both very cruel. Prolonging it’s agony for the sake of not losing your prizes. A true saviour would kill the wretch quickly.” And he ran at the stool, hitting it with a flying kick. The pirate yelled, but managed to keep his balance as the stool rocked over on one leg before righting itself. “Of course, I get the best of both worlds.”

Emma still played cautiously. Another gentle kick. There was no way she was risking losing the game and with it her rooms in the south tower where she was already planning to tie Regina down to her bed and hurt her and fuck her until she begged for mercy. 

“Cruel, cruel,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “We will play until he dies. Even if we have to wait for his legs to get so weak he falls by himself. Now you, Bae. Will you show him mercy and topple him from his perch?”

Baelfire came forward and gave the stool a firmer kick, and, as he did so, exchanged a look with the pirate on the stool. Emma shivered. She thought she might know what message had just passed between them.

“But this is how it’s done now, children,” Rumpelstiltskin shouted, he was taking a few more large paces backwards. After a breath and a moment looking as if he was sizing up his target, Rumpelstiltskin rushed forward and crashed into the stool and the pirate fell, with a sickening crunch as his neck snapped.

Emma couldn’t look away.

*

Later in their room, Emma said, “That pirate jumped, didn’t he?” 

“What? Why do you say that?” Balefire was pulling off his breeches.

“You father thought he wouldn’t lose. He would never agreed to your deal if he did. And yet he was barrelling into that stool. He was using magic. But he’d never have thought the pirate might jump and take his own life to save another. But he did, didn’t he. You told him to do it.”

“His name was Sneer,” said Baelfire as he climbed into bed in just his shirt. “he had a twisted mouth, but you couldn’t see it because of the gag. I don’t know if he was born with it, or if it was from a fight or what. When he smiled it looked like a sneer. So he was called Sneer.”

Emma blew out the candle and slid into the next to Baelfire. She held him. He was shaking. “But you’ll be able to let one of the other pirates free in the morning,” she said softly. “Do you know which one it will be.”

“No,” said Baelfire. “But I know which one it won’t be.” And Baelfire twisted in her arms and kissed her.

And later, when Balefire pressed his face between her legs, Emma thought of that pirate, Sneer, and how it would have been if he hadn’t been gagged, if he had been begging for his life. And then, she thought of Regina and how she could do anything to her, and if she could make her beg for mercy like that, and the spasmed hard into Baelfire’s mouth.

*

The rooms in the South Tower were dusty and small, but they were hers. And there was a bolt on the door and a bed and that afternoon there was…

“Nice work, princess.”

Emma turned and there she was, crossed legged on the bed wearing an elaborate black dress, diamonds glittering at her throat and fingertips.

Emma’s breath was already catching, all want and desire and need. She swallowed. “Take that dress off.”

Regina touched her tongue to her top lip. “Eager. So my princess has been thinking about what she wants to do with the whore, has she?”

“I said, take the dress off. Now. Take it off now.” Emma’s breathing was heavy. She wanted, so desperately to see this woman naked, _this whore naked_ , to see her tits bare and pinch and squeeze them, to see her cunt, to make her wet and desperate. To make her gasp and cry out. Everything about Regina that was so perfect and composed, in ruins.

Regina raised her hands to the fastening of the dress, pearl buttons that began at her neck and ran all the way down the front of it. She stopped after two were open, the sides of the dress springing back from her tits. “Should I keep going, or would you like to do this yourself, princess?”

“I said take it off. I won’t tell you again. If I have to come over there, I will rip it off you.”

“I see.” Regina flipped open another button. “This turns you on, doesn’t it? Power? Look at you. It’s all over your face, how much you love controlling me. Do you want to call me a whore? Call me a whore again.”

“I’ll call you what I want to call you, _Regina_. You’re not in charge anymore.”

Regina laughed. Her dress was unbuttoned to the waist now. She let it fall off her shoulders. She was bare beneath it. Emma had to fight to keep her breathing steady as she just stared. “Do I look the way you thought I’d look?” said Regina. “I know you’ve thought about it.”

Emma wetted her bottom lip with her tongue, without thinking. Then realised how much she’d given away.

“Oh yes,” said Regina. “You’ve hardly thought about anything else.” And she wiggled her shoulders so her tits jiggled. “How terrible, princess. Does your husband know?” 

Emma held back a moan of desire and swallowed hard. “And the rest,” she said. “Show me the rest.”

“You don’t want to come over here and put your mouth on my tits, princess? I can see you squirming.”

“No. I want you to get that dress off, you’re not wearing anything under it are you, whore? I want you to take it off and get off that bed and get on your knees and then I want you to crawl over to me and beg me to please, please spank you. Because no one teases as much as you have, for as long as you have, without wanting to be punished for it.”

“Oh!” Regina looked at Emma with something like shock and admiration. “Yes, princess.” She slid out of the rest of the dress and turned out to be wearing plain black stockings underneath which came just over her knees. When she reached for the top of one of them, she gave Emma a short questioning look and Emma shook her head, “No, keep those on.”

Regina nodded and slipped onto the floor, eyes locked on Emma’s. Eyes that were lit with lust. There wasn’t much distance between then, but Regina crawled to Emma like an animal, swaying her hips and biting her lips. When she reached her, she sat up and slipped a hand up Emma’s skirts, stroking her thigh. “Are you going to spank me, princess?”

“Not until you ask for it, whore,” Emma said, her voice rough with desire. 

“Please, princess, please. I need it. Hurt me.” Regina’s eyes were big, glittering. “I’ve thought of nothing else since the moment I first laid eyes upon you, princess. Your hands on me, how vicious you could be. Last night, in my bed, I thought our you slapping my face and I stroked myself, princess.”

Emma half-growled. “How dare you do such a thing. I never told you that you could do that, whore. You will be punished for that,” Emma’s head was swimming with desire. She felt like her skin was burning. All she wanted, all she was, was seeing Regina scream beneath her. “Stand up.”

Regina got to her feet and Emma touched her bare waist. “Princess, please,” Regina murmured. “Do it now.”

“Now who’s eager,” Emma whispered back. “You must really need to be punished.”

“Can’t you tell, princess?” Regina’s voice was shaking. “I need it so much. Please. I’m such a-“ she dipped her head and looked down, “I’m such a bad girl, my princess.”

“Good,” said Emma. “I’m so glad to hear it.” Emma wound her hand in Regina’s thick dark hair and dragged her by it - dragged her carelessly - to the bed. Climbing upon it, she pulled Regina over her lap, bare but for the black stockings. Regina moaned, turning her head to look up at Emma, her black rimmed eyes full of dark sparkles. 

”Would you like me to hate it, princess. Or love it?”

“What do you mean?” Emma said. She was stroking her right hand over Regina’s bared, upturned backside, only slowly, only a tease, but she could feel it make her shiver. Emma’s cunt felt heavy, thick and hot, the weight of Regina’s body on her lap, making her burn, the bare skin seeming to touch hers through her own skirts and under layers.

“Well,” said Regina, “if you like, when you hit me I can moan, like this, ‘Oh my princess, more, please, harder, princess, I beg you.” Emma felt her cunt prickle at this, “Or, instead,” said Regina, “I can beg you to stop, like this, ‘No princess, princess, no, please have mercy, please, please. I can’t.’” Regina’s voice cracked like she was sobbing. It was only Regina’s body on her that stopped Emma’s hips from bucking, even though she knew it was play acting.

Emma stroked Regina again, letting her hand dip between Regina’s legs, gasping aloud at how wet she was. “Don’t play act for me, beautiful,” Emma whispered, still rubbing at Regina soft, hot, slick cunt. “I know you love it, so love it for me. And let me see if I can make you regret that.” And she slapped her hand down on Regina’s rear as hard as she could.

Regina yelled out, then immediately cried, “Oh yes, yes. Yes, princess. Harder though. Hit me as hard as you can. I need it. Please. Just fucking hurt me.”

Emma hit her again, harder, so much harder that Regina jerked in her lap and she felt that jerk, and the cry that came with it, shoot through her cunt like wildfire.

And then she hit her again and again. Hit her until her upturned arse was blazing red, until Regina was screaming and yelling, bucking around on her skirts so fast, she had to put her free hand on the small of her back to keep her down. And all through it Regina moaned out for more, more; to have it harder, harder, _fucking_ harder, princess - outright begged for it.

Until…

“Please, please, princess,” Regina managed, “Don’t stop, don’t…oh, oh, _OH!_ ”

And Emma felt Regina shake and spasm in her lap as she laid another hard slap on the place where here backside met her thighs, the loud cries breaking into screams and then a long broken moan. 

Emma stopped, and Regina looked over her shoulder. 

“Did you just…?” Emma said, not quite sure such a thing could happen. “Did you just come? From me spanking you?”

Regina grinned. “What can I say, princess? I have many a-talent.” And Regina rolled off Emma and moved to lie next to her on the bed, taking her in her arms and kissing her slowly, tongue flickering at her lips, murmuring, “Oh, princess, my princess. So generous and beautiful and so, so cruel.” As she spoke Regina reached under Emma’s skirts and found her aching cunt. It barely took more than a single touch to tip her over. 

As Emma gasped and spasmed in Regina’s hand, Regina whispered. “I can take more than that, princess, if that would please you. Next time would you whip me? Birch me? Should I bring you a flail? Should I crawl to you with it in my mouth. Should I beg for every mark. Beg through tears? What would please you, my princess? How deep does this go?”

And those last word’s brought Emma to a second peak, almost sobbing from how strong it was. 

Later, as Regina dressed she said casually, “We can’t go on like this, princess.”

“What?” Emma sat up on the bed, her heart beating fast. “Like what?”

“Next time we do this, you will need to pay me, princess. You owe me nine gold so far.”


	4. Chapter 4

Rumpelstiltskin looked at Emma and stretched his eyes wide - wider than a human’s should be. “You do not need money, princess. Why, you live a magical castle that is a wash with spells to respond to your every whim. You have food!” He waved his arm in the air, and as it sliced down, a plate of roast pigeon appeared on Emma’s lap. “You have warmth!” Another arm movement and the fire roared. “You have wine.” A glass in her hand. “You have finery.” Her dress changed from brown linen to yards and yards of bright red silk. “You have, oh, whatever fine ladies call these things!” And he sliced his arm up and down and more and more objects appeared filling Emma’s lap until they spilled onto the floor. A clatter of scent bottles and jewellery and more, until finally a bird in a cage appeared at her feet. “See!” squealed Rumpelstiltskin. “You. Do not. Need. Money. Princess.”

Emma looked at the objects surrounding her. She wondered if Regina would take any of it in lieu of payment. It seemed likely. But she hated the thought of telling Regina she’d failed to get her exactly what she wanted. “It’s just the way it is done, for a princess, to choose some of her own things,” she said lightly, hoping to win that way, with her knowledge of courtly behaviour.

Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. “You take me for a fool. You forget who you speak to. I may not have been born to this grandeur, but I have made it my business to understand it. If you require money _Emma_ you ought to ask your husband. Who should, in his turn, come to me. If you are so concerned with decorum, why have you not taken this up with Baelfire?”

Emma took a breath. _Because he’s a good man. Too good a man to go to and ask for the money to cuckold him?_ She blinked that thought away. “There are things a wife does not discuss with her husband,” she said, “private matters. Baelfire is, a little innocent. In some ways.”

“If you need blood rags tear up the sheets and speak to the maid.” Rumpelstiltskin turned away to one of his cupboard of trinkets. But before Emma could do more the wrinkle her nose at this, he turned back. “Does my son fuck you well?”

Emma startled and the plate of pigeon fell from her lap, slopping over the floor. “W-what?” 

“I was glad you were impure. Couldn’t stand the thought of two virgins fumbling around trying to make me an heir. Of course, when I refer to my son as a virgin, I mean with women. We all know what pirates do.” He smiled an odd, thin little smile at her, coming closer. “They did it to my wife, also. Nothing but a blight, those creatures.”

Emma swallowed a tiny scrap of bile that had jolted up her throat. “That’s what you want? An heir?”

“I want a lot of things, dearie. Many of them beyond your feeble comprehension. Think not on it. Aha.”

“Try me.”

Rumpelstiltskin twirled on the spot, stopping in a sudden pose, palms splayed. “What do I want? My son’s love. Try that one, dearie. Can you get me that?”

“That?” Emma said. “Easily. Stop killing the wretched pirates for a start.”

Rumpelstiltskin began to prowl towards her again. Emma found herself cowering in hr chair. “Oh you don’t want that. Your face lights up to see those delinquents punished. Does it get your filthy cunt all hot and wet? The savagery. I bet it does.”

“How dare you!” _But it did, it did._ And it sickened Emma that somehow, Rumpelstiltskin could tell. “This place is evil.”

“Evil!” Rumpelstiltskin threw his hands into the air, fingers jutting. “Oh yes. This place is evil. And I dearie, I am, truly, the monster within it. But you fit right in, don’t you? You’re more at home here than in your Charming parent’s castle. You’re more at home here than my own son.” A sudden, loud, cackling laugh, and then: “Now get out. You may have ten gold a week, for whatever disgusting female fripperies your cruel heart desires. And do not return asking for more.”

*

She met Baelfire in the day room, he glanced at her red silk dress and said, “You look very beautiful, my lady.” He stood as he spoke. Emma smiled awkwardly, wondering if he had any idea that this dress was from his father. But she went to him and kissed him on the cheek and, as he sat down, she sat next to him. 

“I went to the dungeon this morning,” he said, quite suddenly.

“To see the pirates?” Emma said - said it a little too quickly. She thought about those imprisoned pirates more than she wanted Baelfire to know.

“Yes.” Baelfire swallowed, slow. “The conditions are very bad there for them. Nothing I can do. They are starving, with only filthy water. In irons. Torture. It’s so cruel.” 

Emma shivered. “Torture?”

“My father is, I don’t know, a purist. So there is branding, flaying, a lot of beatings. All manner of evil things. And the Captain isn’t there. Isn’t amongst the men. I don’t know what he’s done to him.”

“The Captain?”

“The ship’s Captain. Captain Hook. He has - has or had - a hook for a hand. I miss him, I suppose. He always took care of me and he knew my mother, and often spoke of her. So, I’d say, for that alone, for lying with her, he’s probably dead. Except that it’s father. To him death is a kindness.” Baelfire’s hands were tight fists. “It’s my fault, Emma. All my fault. They knew who I was, the pirates. They worked in it out. And as soon as they knew I was the son of The Dark One they should have tossed me overboard. But they didn’t. And they knew he’d come for me, in the end. It’s not safe, to be around me. Not with who my father is. He’s not just a bad man, but he’s jealous and possessive. Particularly of me. And he’s the Dark One. Getting close to me isn’t safe. They knew it. Those pirates. They knew what it meant to harbour me. And when he came for me, a great purple vortex in the sky, a roaring and a rain of fire, they stood and they fought for me, fell on the deck of that ship. For me.” Baelfire thumped a fist down on is lap. “And now, I can’t even save them from him.” 

Emma covered the fist with her own hand and squeezed it. “You’re saving one of them.”

Baelfire turned and looked at Emma, looked desperately into her eyes. “But you’re not safe Emma. If he knew I loved you… I don’t know what he’d do.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “You love me?”

But Baelfire ignored this and drew a dagger from his belt, small and slender. He handed it to Emma, “Just keep this with you, Emma. You never know.”

*

It was cold in the courtyard. When she had come outside in just the red silk dress, Rumpelstiltskin had whisked a white fur cloak out of the air for her, laughing that what he had planned might take a while. Baelfire had looked at his father in disgust.

In a large cage in the courtyard were three more pirates, leering through the bars. One of them had taken his cock from his breeches and was waving it at Emma. Emma looked away. 

One of these pirates, Rumpelstiltskin explained, would be set free, as he had promised after last night’s game. Of course, Rumpelstiltskin, angry at having been made to do such a thing, had thought up the harshest way to do it, telling Baelfire he had to choose which pirate would be freed now and that the other two would be immediately killed in front of him. After being told this, Baelfire began storming around the courtyard in a rage and the pirate’s face’s went pale beneath their dark tans and scars and tattoos. Emma shivered at the cruelty of it. She thought of what Rumpelstiltskin had said about her enjoying this; thought about how disturbing that was; thought about Regina in that cage with the same terrified look on her face that the pirates had. 

When Baelfire finally chose, he came marching over to the cage pointed at one of them, hardly looking, and stamped straight into the castle. Rumpelstiltskin yelled with rage, starting after him; throwing some magic over his shoulder that throttled the two pirates that had not been chosen for release. They fell to the floor and everything went very, very silent.

Alone in the courtyard, Emma walked over to the cage. The living pirate was crouched in a corner, hands folded over his head. Emma peered at him, “Are you…? Are you okay?”

The man looked up. He was thick set and dark. There was a long scar on his cheek and tattoos covered both his arms. “Aye, aye, missy. He’s a good boy, young Baelfire. He chose well.” The burly creature in the cage didn’t seem overly concerned that two of his friends were lying dead just feet away from him. He grinned a sly-looking grin. “Now, my darling, how about you let me out of this pen and I’ll be on me merry way.”

“I don’t think I can just let you out. This is The Dark Castle. You can’t just walk out the gate.”

The man in the cage stood up and shrugged. “Aye, reckon it is that, missy, but I’m a pirate, and I’ll find me a way if you can just get this thing open.”

Emma walked around the cage and found the way out was merely bolted with two big bolts. She drew them back and opened the door. It squealed on its hinges so loudly she looked over her shoulder, sure this noise would have alerted some attention to what she was doing. But no one was there, and while she was ditracted the pirate leapt up, grabbed hold of her and slammed her hard against the barred wall of the cage. 

“Alright, there, missy. Now, who are you?” His breath in her face was grotesque. She remembered what Baelfire had said about no food, filthy water, probably not even a latrine. The pirate moved closer, clearly enjoying how it made her flinch, “I suspect, missy, you thought a faithless devil like me would high tail out of here soon as the door was opened, but no, see, there is an honour amongst pirates, and I’ll be doing all I can to rescue some of me shipmates afore I go. I have you as hostage, so, who are you.” And he pulled Emma way from the bars only to slam her hard against them again.

Emma gasped, winded. “I, I’m Emma. I’m Baelfire’s wife. I’m the daughter of Queen Snow and Prince David. I’m…” But she had no other titles. Baelfire had none to give her.

“Baelfire,” the pirate spat. “That turncoat. Well let’s see if the bastards who run this castle want to bargain some men to get your sweet little cunt back, shall we? Mayhaps I should take a sample, see what it’s worth.” Emma squeaked and the pirate leant forward and licked her face; her eyes prickled at the stench. And he didn’t seem to hear the footsteps, the running behind her, but she saw his eyes go wide as the blade appeared at his neck. Emma’s own blade and holding it…

“Regina!”

“Hello darling,” said Regina brightly, as she cut the pirate’s throat.

Blood flew everywhere and the dead pirate fell forward onto Emma, then slid to floor, leaving a wide stripe of red blood down Emma’s fur cloak. She was shaking. “No one touches my princess,” Regina said to the pirate’s lifeless body. “I’m a jealous woman.” and she turned back to look at Emma, regarding the stain down her front. “That’s ruined,” she said. “Take it off.”

Emma didn’t argue, didn’t even think to. She unfastened the cloak and let it fall from her shoulders, Regina’s eyes swept up and down the red dress. “Nice,” she said hoarsely. “Want you knife back?” She handed to Emma hilt first. Regina sucked her bottom lip. “Want to hold me against those bars the way this ape held you?”

Emma shivered at the thought, but looked around. “We can’t. Not out here.”

“Fair point,” Regina said as she grabbed Emma’s hand, and began hauling her across the courtyard and then into a small alcove full of old boots and riding gear. “Tack room,” she said, as she all but flung Emma inside, “barely used. Get your dress off.”

Emma was panting. “No,” she said, between gasps, “you, get yours off.”

“Princess,” Regina breathed, starting on the buttons of her long black gown, “even when pirates try to rape her, even when you rescue her from pirates trying to rape her still, _so commanding_.”

“That because I’m a princess. I am meant to be.” And Emma raised her chin, smiling.

“Sure you are,” Regina’s dress was open to the waist now. “Still, get your dress off, princess.” Regina’s own dress fell away as she spoke. Underneath it she was in a black corset, cut under her rounded tits and nothing else but her stockings. And behind her, was a large saddle on a block. 

Emma unfastened and stepped out of her own dress. She wore a layered petticoat underneath, thin white straps sitting on her shoulder. She let Regina look at her undressed for a moment, then said, “Bend over that saddle.”

Regina looked behind her and caught her breath. “Whatever for, princess?” And then she nodded, slightly at the wall behind Emma. Emma turned. Mounted on the wall behind her were more than a dozen riding crops. Emma had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud, just looking a the vicious things

Regina did as she’d been told, bending over the saddle, arse up - her beautiful behind, framed by her corset and stockings and utterly vulnerable - while Emma took one of the crops from the wall. It was bright red, like her dress now pooled on the floor. Regina craned to see her as she took a couple of practise swishes through the air. “Are you going to hurt me, princess?” she said, her voice quivering a little.”

“Oh yes,” said Emma, “yes I am.”

“Then, please, have me kiss the whip first, princess. Make me thank you for the pain. For allowing me to suffer for your pleasure.”

Emma fell her pussy pulse with want. She walked over to Regina, leaned over her back and held the whip in front of her mouth, just out of reach of her lips. “You want to kiss this?” Emma whispered. “Beg to kiss it.”

“Princess, please. Just make me kiss it. You’re already going to whip me, don’t degrade me so much by making me beg just for that.”

Emma leaned closer, close enough she could run her tongue over Regina’s ear. “You will beg me, whore. Beg to kiss the whip. Or we end this.” And she bit the tip of Regina’s ear. She could hear Regina’s swallow. “You’re wet already, aren’t you?” Regina said nothing and Emma pressed a hand between Regina’s legs. Regina was just wet, she was desperate and soaking, jerked and met Emma’s touch with a moan of want. Emma gasped. “I thought so. Beg to kiss the whip,” she said, still stroking Regina gently. Not enough to satisfy her, just a cruel ghost of a touch. A tease.

Regina moaned and tried to push back into Emma’s fingers, but Emma used her thigh to hold Regina pinned. “I gave you a fucking order, whore. Beg.”

“Please,” Regina whimpered. “Please let me kiss the whip, princess.”

“Is that what you want, fucking slut. Maybe I’ll let you. And then what should I do to you?”

“Whip me, uh.” Regina grunted as she tried once more to push herself harder onto Emma’s teasing fingers.

“Whip you? Really? And should I whip you hard? Should I whip you until you’re in tears?”

Regina moaned again. “Yes, princess, yes! Hurt me. Whip me to blood and tears, for your pleasure. Then fuck me. Please. Fuck me with that fucking whip!”

And Emma chuckled and moved the whip close enough to Regina’s mouth that she could plant a single soft kiss upon it. Just the sight of that, her lips caressing the thing that would hurt her, made Emma moan; but without any warning, she whisked the whip away and laid it hard upon Regina’s rear.

Regina jolted and bucked under the blow as a violent, red stripe bloomed across her arse, thin and nasty. She made a half bitten off noise of anguish, then said, her voice only a little broken, “Thank you, princess.”

That made Emma catch her breath. She hit Regina quickly a second and third time. Harder. And at each stroke, Regina moaned out in pain and then thanked her for it. And after the fourth stroke she said, “Thank you, princess. Please, more. Harder. Whip me harder.”

Emma swallowed then, stepped back and smashed the whip into the Regina for the fifth stroke. Regina gasped and made a broken sobbing sound, and Emma said, “And you will thank me for that, whore.”

“Thank you, princess. Thank you for whipping me harder, princess.” Regina’s words were sobs. 

Emma kept going, harder. Regina was openly sobbing from pain as she hit the tenth stroke, her deferent thank yous, just wailing, the roughest shape of the words. Emma hit her twice more to make the dozen, then stepped closer and ran her hands over the angry red marks. 

The marks were hot and each raised in two ridges at each side, flatter in the centre. Emma pinched one and Regina howled. Then Emma slipped two fingers in Regina’s aching, soaking cunt and pinched one of the welts again. The sound Regina made this time was a strangled gasp. 

“Does being hurt excite you?” Emma said, pinching and caressing Regina at the same time once more, “does being hurt turn you on, whore? Does it make you wet?”

“Yes,” Regina gasped, “yes, princess. I like pain. I enjoy pain. It, oh-“ another gasp at another pinch, “-it turns me on. I like pain. I’m a slut for it.”

“Hmm,” Emma twirled the whip around in her hands and carefully inserted the tip of it into Regina.

“Oh, princess… is that?”

“The whip? Oh yes.” And Emma held the shaft and fucked the whip in and out, carefully, but firm and fast, as, with her other hand, she teased Regina’s clit. And it took less then three thrusts with the whip like this for Regina to buck up off the saddle and come hard, clenching around the whip over and over again. By the time she was done, Emma was gasping too, her hips bucking with her own need.

“Oh, princess,” Regina said, after a moment, sliding off the saddle on wobbly legs. “You are quite, quite…Oh.” And completely unexpectedly, Regina ran at Emma, and crushed their mouths together in a vicious kiss. Full of passion, biting at her lips, Regina drove Emma backwards until she slammed, hard, into the wall at her back. “Oh, oh, princess,” Regina moaned again, kissing Emma so hard she couldn’t breathe. Regina had one hand in Emma’s hair, holding her firm against the wall and the other bunching up Emma’s petticoat, then working beneath it to find Emma’s own, wet, desperate cunt. With a moaned of pleasure, Regina sank three fingers into her, fucking her immediately and hard.“Your turn to beg for it princess,” she whispered into Emma’s hair, winding her fingers in it, pulling so tight Emma gasped.

Emma struggled for her voice as Regina’s fingers fucked into her, making her lose herself in sensation. “What? I will bloody not beg you for anything, whore. Fucking fuck me.”

Regina just laughed. She slipped her fingers sharply out of Emma’s cunt, brought them up, glistening, to her face, and shoved them into Emma’s mouth. “How about, princess,” she hissed, forcing those three fingers in and out, making Emma gasp around them, the taste of her everywhere, “I fuck you here, in your filthy mouth. If what you want so dearly, is to be fucked.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Emma spluttered around the invading fingers.

“I’m making you earn it, princess. For once in your life. And you’d better have my money in your purse, or you won’t get to come this afternoon even if you do beg for it.” Regina took her fingers from Emma’s mouth and slipped them back down, but didn’t fuck back into her, just teased around the edge of her cunt, until Emma was writhing, struggling to find the touch.

“Regina, please,” Emma gasped. “I have ten gold. In my purse. It’s all for you. Fuck me.”

Regina slid her fingers over Emma’s clit and away again. “That’s not enough princess. Say you’ll get me more.” 

Emma moaned with frustration. “I’ll get you more, now fucking shut up and make me come. I want your mouth.”

“Oh you’re a long way from earning that princess. A long, long way,” Regina whispered, as she slipped her fingers over Emma’s clit again and Emma screamed and came, taught and desperate, up against the wall.


	5. Chapter 5

The following afternoon, Emma was in her rooms in the South tower, when a knock came at her door, that she was certain, was not Baelfire. It was brisker, firmer than he would knock. She opened up eagerly, thinking it might be Regina, despite the fact that, in truth, she had never yet known Regina knock on a door.

And she still had not. She opened the door to Rumpelstiltskin, and was surprised enough by him that she stumbled backwards a step. As she checked herself, he bowed extravagantly in the doorway, making no move to cross her threshold.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Emma said. “Can I help you?”

“Oh you can, my dear, and in ways you have, so far, been rather keeping to yourself.” He paused. “Tell me, princess, why was your fur cape in the courtyard, covered in blood yesterday evening? The maid brought it to me quite horror struck. It was quite the work of an hour to calm her.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “A maid in this castle was traumatised by a bloody cloak?”

“Well, perhaps the trauma was due to the dead pirate beneath it. Aha.”

Emma stared at Rumpelstiltskin. The events of the previous afternoon with Regina had overwhelmed her. Since, she had thought of nothing else. She had spent the entire day locked away in her room reliving them, jamming the bolster from the bed between her legs, edging herself and teasing out each orgasm as long as possible. Now, as Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, grinning, she was certain he knew what she had been doing. She fisted her right hand and cupped her left one over it, as if hiding her shame. 

It was as if that action, clasping together her guilty hands, worked as some kind of summoning.

Next to the door was an armchair, a dusty red velvet armchair with a high seat and winged back. With the door wide open, the chair was hidden behind it. But Emma, standing a few steps back from the open door, could see it easily. She saw the movement. A flicker in the air, like a change in the current. And there was Regina, sat in the chair as if she had been sitting there all along. Emma frowned at her and, in response, Regina stretched her eyes and opened her red lips in a wide, shocked ‘O’. Almost as if she was as surprised to find herself there as Emma was. Her black dress was so low cut Emma could see where her skin darkened around her nipples - it had black feathers all around the collar.

“Something on your mind, dearie?” said Rumpelstiltskin. 

Emma swallowed and looked back at him. “He attacked me,” she said, forcing her voice level. “The pirate.”

“Of course he did, dearie.” Rumpelstiltskin took a small step into the room. Emma went tense, her skin prickling, not daring to look at Regina again, but certain she was still right there. “That’s what they do... Rape.” Rumpelstiltskin’s tongue slipped out and caressed the corner of his mouth. “Did it touch you? They would all have you, you know. Those creatures, they would touch your white breasts and press their filthy faces between your legs. They would pleasure you, pleasure you as a torment and to make it impossible for any man to win their woman back.” HIs breathing was loud and feral.

Emma nodded. Regina was licking her lips, when Emma stole a glance at her - like she was the pirate Rumpelstiltskin spoke of. But what Rumpelstiltskin was describing, and what Regina was clearly enjoying, was nothing like how the creature in the courtyard had behaved. He meant to ransom and kill her. He mentioned fucking her, but it seemed more like an act of revenge than anyone’s pleasure. And if he was an example of pirates, Emma did not care if Rumpelstiltskin killed them all.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Emma. “It won’t happen again.” On the edge of her vision, Regina put her hand to the neckline of her dress and slipped it down so Emma could see her left breast. She dipped her head, flashed her eyes, lifted the flesh a little and licked her own nipple.

Emma gulped, felt herself pinkening.

“Oh dearie, I am not angry with you. I am delighted. Kill as many pirates as you wish. If the mood ever takes you pop down the the dungeons and have at it.” His voice slid back to the whisper. “I know you enjoy it, deeply. Let them try and touch you, princess, make them think the can. Then crush their filthy hearts.” His smiled got wider. “Your reward for your work so far.” Rumpelstiltskin pressed a purse into Emma’s hand. “Do keep it up,” he said, and he turned and sailed away.

Still startled, Emma closed the door and turned to lean against it as she looked at Regina, who hunched her shoulders and pressed her half-bared tits together.

“How much did you get?” she said, her voice full of glee. 

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t do anything like that ever again. If he saw you.”

“If he saw me, what? What’s he going to think, really?”

Emma’s mouth fell a little way open. “You’re half,” she waved at Regina. “You’re half naked. Besides, sometimes, the way he looks at me, I think he knows.” Emma emptied the contents of the purse into her hand. Ten gold and a key. _Ten gold?_

“Ten gold.” Regina looked at the coin in Emma’s hand. “Maybe he does.” Her tongue flicked over her lips.

“But what’s the key for?”

“Princess, you can be so sweet for such a vicious sadist. The key is so you can earn more money. It’s the key to the dungeon. How it works is, you kill pirates, he pays you and you use that money for, oh yes, me.” Regina squirmed in her seat and Emma realised exactly what she wanted.

She took a breath. “In that case, whore, I’ll be using this purse to buy your mouth right now.”

“Princess,” Regina laughed as she said it. “Oh, princess, so sweet and so greedy. I have visited with you four times. And all you have paid me is 10 gold. You have a debt of 2 before we even begin. You’re going to have to be far more careful with your coin if you want to afford my mouth on you. Far more careful. I warn you princess, no one ever buys my mouth once.” She winked.

Emma shook her head slightly, she was still leaning up against the door, the rough wood prickled her back; her skin was too hot. “Ten gold for you mouth. It’s so much. After everything else we’ve done, why charge so much for that?”

“To make you want it. You crave it, don’t you, my mouth on you. I’m just a whore, princess. A gutter creature, who, for money will let you beat me and fuck me. But you don’t care for those things half as much as you do this one little thing.” Regina ran her teeth over her bottom lip, “the one thing that I just won’t let you have.”

“That’s not true. And I’ll just fuck you instead. Fuck my whole hand into you, you said, make you beg.”

“Try it,” Regina said, leaving her mouth open, letting Emma see her tongue playing behind it. “But you’d be thinking about me kissing your hard little clit the whole time, princess.”

Emma took a hard breath that was almost, almost, a whimper.

“Ah,” sighed Regina, ‘but aren’t you meant to be the cruel one. How about I offer you a deal? I can’t bear to see you so frustrated, truly. Maybe, half price. For the first taste.” Regina pouted, made a little moue withe mouth Emma couldn’t stop looking at. 

Emma pushed her back harder against the door, almost as if she needed it to keep her up. She crossed her arms, pressed them tight across her tits, her breath was catching. “Half price, and I owe you 2. So you’d do it for, 7? What’s the catch?”

“Catch? Oh, my suspicious little princess.” Regina rolled her tongue behind her teeth again as she leaned back in the chair, stretching her arms up over her head - so high both tits were freed from her dress. She stretched her black-lined eyes, the white parts glittered. “It’s simple, princess. You can only get that price once.” She wrinkled her nose, “And no one ever buys my mouth once. It’s cruel, essentially, to let someone know how good something they can’t afford is.” Emma’s arms were still crossed, almost hugging herself now, as if trying to protect herself from this woman who she was already lost to. She made another noise that was too, too close to a whimper. “And if you take this deal,” said Regina, “that’s not all. If you take the half price deal you’re on a different pricing structure then. Second time you pay full price and then… it keeps…” Regina puts a finger to her mouth and worried at her bottom lip, with a surprised smile. “Going… up.”

“What? What keeps going up? What do you mean?”

“The price of my mouth,” - the mouth she was still touching -, “is 10 gold for half an hour, but if you’re skeptical enough to doubt it could be worth that, don’t want to pay it, then it’s 5 for your first half hour, then 10 for the second, then 20, then 40, then 80, and on and on until it _ruins_ you. There’s a high price to pay, darling, for doubting that I can deliver something worth what I charge.” Regina raised a hand to her mouth, licked the back of it obscenely. And then smiled.

Emma swallowed. “Fine. I'll take it.” Not allowing herself to give it too much thought, she flounced over to the bed and took 7 gold from the purse Rumpelstiltskin had given her. She met Regina’s gaze for a moment, and then flung herself onto the bed, rolling onto her back. She was wearing a pink satin dress, too much of a dressy dress, really, for a day she had planned to spend alone in her room, but she liked the way the slippery fabric felt against her hot, wanting skin. Emma hitched up the skirts of the dress to her waist. She wore white stockings, she didn’t bother to remove these or even her slippers, simply let her legs fall open, showing Regina the pink-white skin of her inner thighs and, where the met, the greedy curve of her cunt.

Regina nodded. “Brave, aren’t you? My dear brave little princess,” and she made her way towards the bed, climbed upon it and looked down at Emma, propped on pillows. Regina with her polished black hair piled up on her head, raven feathers all around her neckline, a dress that was yards and yards of black and boning - she looked like a beautiful monster.

It began with a kiss in the crook of Emma’s knee, Regina’s tongue pushing at the the silk of her stockings, then dropping kisses all the way up her thigh until the final moment, the moment that the next kiss would be on the seam of her pussy and then Regina pulled away, to plant a kiss inside Emma’s other knee. Again she kissed her way down that thigh, and this time did touch her mouth to the closed curve of Emma’s cunt, kissing and licking there, drawing her tongue slowly over it, but not pressing inside. Emma’s breathing was already coming in desperate stutters, she rolled her head against the pillows.

Regina licked her there over and over, soft and wide and long, until Emma was panting, almost keening, bucking her hips up, trying and trying to get Regina to split her and push into her. But Regina put a steadying hand low on Emma’s belly, holding her down, and continued to lick and lick her until eventually Emma caught her breath and whispered, “Please.” And Regina chuckled against Emma’s hot skin and pressed a firm, probing tongue into her, moaning as she did so, moaning as if fucking her tongue into Emma was something she had been craving her whole life.

Inside the split of Emma’s pussy, where Emma was burning and desperate already, alive, like she had pins and fire under here skin, Regina went back to long, slow, creamy zig zags, pressing tongue down low enough to slip into Emma’s arsehole - which made Emma buck and keen - and then up, coasting over her vagina and flickering past her clit, not pausing for a second to caress it, even as Emma moaned every time it ghosted past. After enough of these swoops to drive Emma to thrash on the bed, prickling with sweat, hair stuck to her face, waves of pleasure washing her, Regina began to work a moist finger into Emma’s arsehole. Emma squealed; she said something but it came out as a chattering of incoherent sounds. And then, after that, she had no words but moans.

Emma legs were hitched up bent at the knees and spread wide, Her thighs were shaking and shaking, dotted with delicate bite marks as if some tiny vicious nibbling creature and made a path from each knee to her aching cunt. Regina pushed her tongue right into Emma, fucked her there a few times, hard, fast, her finger thrusting into her too. Emma burned for more - more than this - and started to buck up again, to fuck herself on Regina’s tongue, but then that tongue slipped up to resume those long licks, that had Emma close to begging. The way each pass touched her clit, but only glazed it, only for the tiniest instant. Her thighs shook harder. Her toes curled inside her slippers. She struggled and struggled to find her breath, to find a word. “Please,” Emma whispered again. 

“Patience…, princess…” The words vibrated against Emma’s hot, heavy pussy. Regina twisted her tongue and began circling Emma’s clit without touching it. 

Emma yelled out with frustration, fought for her words again. And then found them. “Make me come,” Emma said, her voice cracking and _desperate_. “Make me fucking come, you fucking bitch.”

Regina pulled back from Emma, as far as she could with Emma’s hands in her hair and Emma’s knees locked at her shoulders. “I much prefer it,” Regina said softly, “when you are polite to me.”

“No you don’t.” Emma lifted her quivering hips off the bed a little and slammed them down again, almost enraged.

Regina gave a tiny chuckle. “When I’m like this, I do. Now remember your manners, princess.”

Emma took a breath. “Please,” she said, “please..., whore.”

Regina laughed again, pressed her face back between Emma’s legs and went back to her fast, frustrating circles, teasing Emma’s clit harder and harder. Emma bucked up into Regina’s face. Her clit was straining, was so tight it felt like a tiny chip of glass buried between her legs. “Come on, whore, come on.” She was sobbing, half-screaming.

And then Regina slipped her tongue, firm and flat over Emma’s clit, once, just once, and it was enough and everything went white and silver and grey. Emma screamed and screamed as she came. Hard as diamond. She bucked into Regina’s mouth over and over. She arched up, still crying out, her throat was aching from screaming. There were tears blurring eyes. 

And when Regina finally released her and Emma’s body let go of itself and she felt like she was made of cotton and clouds, she realised she would pay anything to have Regina do that to her again.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma put the key into the lock and turned it. It clicked. Although the door to the dungeons was dusty and rusted, the key turned easily in the oiled lock. This was a well used route. The steps down were dark, lit by an inadequate number of flickering torches, but the steps were swept and the path was clear. 

It had been three days since Rumpelstiltskin had given her this key. She was still baffled by his actions in asking her to kill his captured pirates. Surely he could slaughter the entire dungeon full with a single thought. Hadn’t her parents said as much, when then had tearfully told her of the deal they’d made with him, the one that they had never expected to be asked to fulfil? Hadn’t they said that if there was any way to fight him that they would have taken it, but that he could destroy the entire kingdom, reduce it to a wasteland, if he wished it for even a moment.

Emma took the steps in a daze, unable to consider any other action now.

After that afternoon when she’d felt Regina’s mouth upon her, come upon her tongue, she’d sent her away. She hadn’t wanted that creature around, tormenting her, pouting, lip biting and kissing her long and slow in a way that parodied, at Emma’s mouth - with long slow licks and hard fast flicks - the exact thing Regina refused to do at her cunt, without a further 10 gold in payment.

For two days Emma devoted herself to Baelfire. He was still concerned with putting a child in her, and so considered it a duty to fuck her nightly, kissing and licking at her clit afterwards as she had told him. But what he did there, though he tried and was eager and devoted, was not what Regina could do - and what he did there, just made her miss Regina more. 

Emma became so frustrated she summoned Regina back and paid the final three gold she had to could pull Regina over her lap and spank her. Spank her through a jolting orgasm, with Emma’s own climax fast on it’s heels - and on and on until Regina was jut sobbing broken tears, begging Emma to _stop, please stop_ , too weak to escape Emma’s grasp, unable to do anything but take blow after blow until the skin on her arse was bruised and broken. Emma hadn’t known it was possible to spank someone hard enough to draw blood. She paused long enough to bring her stinging hand to her lips and lick at the tiny flecks.

Regina caught her breath, “Please, princess. Please. No more.”

“I’ve hardly started, whore. Should I fetch a belt? Should I have you fetch it? Crawl, and return with it in your mouth? Beg me to use it on you?”

“No, no, please, princess.” Regina started to sob harder and Emma’s cunt pulsed hard. She went back to spanking Regina as hard as she could, but she didn’t use a belt. 

Not this time.

When Emma’s arms were aching from holding Regina down and her palm was burning, she let go and Regina fell onto the floor. When Regina rolled over and looked up at Emma in the chair, her eyes were red and there were still tears on her face, but she still fixed Emma with a cocky look and said, “It seems you got very frustrated very quickly.”

Emma said, “It’s not that. I just like hurting you.”

“Sure, princess, sure. We’ll see. I bet you’ll be down in that dungeon to kill a pirate for my mouth tomorrow.”

And, as ever, Regina had been right. 

*

She found them quickly, followed the low groans and horrific smell. As soon as she got near enough to the barred wall of the big, damp cell, the creatures inside started cat calling, yelling out to her. 

“Look at that, a lady, a fucking lady”, “A fucking bitch, more like. That’s a bitch”, “Thar’s nay a bitch, thars a whore. I’ve seen her down the dockside taverns, that one. She’ll do anything for a bit o’ silver. Or less if she’s had a drink”, “I reckon,” said one with a brand that covered half his face, “she’s the type that’ll do anyfing for just the drink.” And at that, they all hollered. They sounded like animals. “They were all manacled, but some of them had wrenched at their chains to get closer to her, close up to the bars; her breath was already fast and fearful, like a fluttering creature trapped in her chest.

She’d brought the knife Baelfire had given her. She was clinging to the hilt so tightly she couldn’t feel her fingers. 

They kept yelling and laughing. “Show us yer tits, bitch”, “Show us yer cunt”, “Get on yer back, bitch. Get on yer back and show us pink. Show us yer dripping pink”, “Do you need cock, whore? Is that why yer here?” And all of them laughed again. And Emma turned and ran.

She didn’t run back to the steps, but deeper into the dungeons. Most of it was deserted, but there were dozens of dark passage ways, cell upon cell. How many people had Rumpelstiltskin left to rot down here? Hadn’t he told her he had created this castle himself? So he had chosen for the dungeons to be as vast as this, and so revoltingly dank.

When finally she stopped to catch her breath, leaning up against filthy mould covered wall, chest heaving, she noticed something very curious. There was a gap in the wall opposite her, only small but definitely there. She crossed the passage to look at it, and found it was a space just big enough to slip through. And then she found herself at one end of a short passage way that seemed to be a dead end. _But_ , Emma thought, _why create a secret entrance to a passage that led nowhere?_ She followed it.

At the end of the short passage way, Emma pressed both her palms against stone wall. It didn’t move or seem to be anything other than what it appeared. And then a a voice said, “Missy, down here.”

Emma looked down to find that the floor she stood on was not a floor at all, but an overgrown metal grating. Below it was a space, a cell of some kind. Pitch dark. Emma turned, took a torch from the wall and aimed the light down into the hole. And there, imprisoned in the hole, was a man. A very dirty, bruised, broken-looking man. He squinted up into the light. “Be careful with your torch there, missy. Delicate lady like you might not want to see too much o’ what’s down here.”

The torch light flickered over the tiny cell under the floor. It caught a bare flank, white skin on a thigh. “You’re naked,” Emma said, said it like an accusation.

“Aye missy, I believe I am. Not a sight for a delicate creature of breeding such as yourself.”

“Why are you…?” Emma swallowed. He was not an uncomely man, even with the filth and marks on him. It was hard not to look at him. “Why are you naked?”

“Not for any reason of me own making, missy,” he said and he laughed a little, but it was the laugh of a man half broken to madness. He moved, as he laughed, and the metal at his wrist caught the torch light. 

“Are you the Captain?” Emma said, “The Captain of the pirates? Captain Hook?”

“I am,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you Baelfire’s wife?”

Emma squinted at Hook. “How do you know that?”

“Because there’s no one else you could be. What are you doing down here, missy?”

Emma took a sharp breath through her nose. It steadied her, but the air was foul. “I’m here to kill a pirate,” she said.

“Really? I did hear that was a popular plan. Although an escape denied to me, I believe. So you’re as heartless as the master of this castle, are you, love?” 

Emma crouched lower and shone the torch into the dark. Hook smiled at her. She could see his dick, soft between his legs. “I wasn’t. But then one of your crew tried to rape me. I’ve killed him already.”

“Aye, right,” he nodded, “well they are all pirates, love. Pirate crew - we’ll take anyone who’ll swear an oath. Some of them be rapers. Sometimes that’s why they join up.” The torch light caught his shrug.

Emma shivered, but she held herself straight. “Tell me, then, Captain Hook, tell me the name of one of your rapers.”

*

Emma moved quickly. Her mind mustn’t change now. She would execute a known raper and in return, earn enough money to pay Regina to slip that clever tongue over her cunt again. She’d make her kneel this time. Take her somewhere filthy, perhaps even bring her down here and put her to her knees in the dirt. _Spoil her clothes. Hold her hair and buck hard into her face. Fuck her mouth. Make her take it. Yes. Yes._

_Bailey_ , Hook had said. Bailey was the worst one. Always made a point of taking women as his plunder, the younger the better. Pirates are loyal to their crew, he had said, always, that was the oath, “But if you are to take one, missy, take Bailey.” Bailey had an ear missing, had lost it as a punishment for his favourite predilection. It made him easy to find. When Emma spotted him she beckoned him over to the barred wall of the cell. Of course he struggled over to her, how could a creature like that resist? 

“You Bailey?” she said to the pirate when he was close enough that she would be able to reach through the bars and grab him if she took a single step forward.

Bailey nodded vigorously. “What can I do for ye, missy?” He dropped his chin and gave her a dark, seductive look, under the filth he was disturbingly handsome, “you feeling lonely?” One of his dirty hands ghosted over his groin. He wore a pair of striped breeches, torn and stained, and his dick was hard, tenting them. “I can help ye with that, missy. Come in ‘ere. I won’t let any of these other dogs touch ye. It’ll just be us, lass. I know how to make it good.” He smiled. “Do you like this.” And he pushed a glistening tongue between his lips and flickered it up and down. “Lasses love it. They beg for mine, only need a single taste to start craving it.”

Emma stepped closer; he’d be able to grab her now if her reached through the bars. “I do like tongue, Bailey. I really do. You wouldn’t believe what I’m willing to do for it.”

From the back of the cell another of the pirates shouted, “See, what did I tell ye, she is a whore.”

As he shouted that, at the exact moment Emma was distracted, Bailey shot forward and grabbed her, his fingers digging into the flesh on her upper arms. He yanked her forward and slammed her mouth into his, his tongue coming out and pushing between her lips. That tongue, there was no doubt, _fucked_ it’s way into her mouth, fast and hard and, as it did so, Emma lifted the knife she was holding and cut Bailey’s throat. 

He fell away from her, blood gushing from his neck, thick and hot between them. Blood everywhere. Blood like a fountain. Emma stepped back. 

“You cold bitch,” shouted one of the pirates, as Bailey fell. “Can’t a man kiss a girl?” yelled another. 

Emma took another step away and then another. Her back was at the far wall when she stopped. Her chest heaving. She was drenched in blood from her chin to satin slippers. 

There was something in her mouth. She spat it into the floor.

It was Bailey’s tongue. 

*

That afternoon, Emma spent her money. She didn’t take Regina to the dungeons as she thought she might, but had Regina press her face between her legs as Emma spread herself on her bed. But Emma’s mind went to that filthy place. As Regina’s tongue slipped over her tight, hard clit, Emma’s mind replayed that sweet feeling she’d had, as that pirate had died with his filthy raper’s tongue still pressing into her mouth. Of the blood, the thick, warm blood - the smell of it - oozing between their bodies...

She bucked up harder into Regina’s mouth. 

Regina put a hand on Emma’s stomach, “Where is your head, princess?” she said softly, with a nip to Emma’s left thigh.

Emma pulled herself up on her elbows. “I killed a man today.”

Regina looked up and smiled. “Did you like it, princess?”

Instead of answering, Emma reached down and grabbed Regina’s hair. She pulled Regina up her body until she could drag her down into a slippery kiss, Regina’s face smeared with Emma’s spill. As the kissed, Emma rolled Regina over, so she was on top, straddling her and took the knife from the shelf beside the bed…

She kept kissing as she pressed the knife, hard, to Regina’s throat - one hand still wound in Regina’s hair. Emma jerked herself against Regina, frotting on the slick black fabric of her tight dress, and whispered, “Yes. Yes I did like it. I loved it. He tried to kiss me, had his tongue in my mouth. When I cut his throat his blood went everywhere. But before I sank the knife into him, I bit off his tongue.” And Emma closed her teeth around Regina’s own. Regina’s dark eyes went wide as saucers. Emma could feel her heart beating. She opened her teeth and let Regina’s tongue go. “I don’t want your mouth anymore, whore.” Emma said. “I want something else.”

Regina was lying beneath Emma, arms splayed submissively above her head. She lifted her chin and showed Emma the long line of her neck, offered it to the blade. “Oh yes,” she breathed, “yes, princess. Whatever you want.”

“I want you,” Emma hissed. “All of you. I want to own you. I want you to be my property.”

“Oh, princess,” said Regina, “you can’t buy that.”

Emma pressed the knife harder, hard enough to scratch Regina’s skin. Regina’s hips jerked. “Oh yes I can,” Emma said, ducking down and licking Regina’s jaw. “How much? How much for you?”


	7. Chapter 7

Emma sat on the filthy floor of the secret dungeon corridor, playing with her knife. Hook was below her, under the grille, in the dark. Of course he was, he wasn’t going anywhere, probably ever. She didn’t think he knew, but she’d seen when he moved a moment ago that his hand now had three fingers missing. Emma wondered how he had screamed when it was done to him, and if Rumpelstiltskin enjoyed torture, enjoyed inflicting pain. Enjoyed it the way she did. 

The thought of that, that she and he might have this thing in common, made her stomach roll.

It hadn’t been a plan, to come here, to talk him, of all people, but here she was. There wasn’t anyone else she could talk to.

He’d laughed at her when she’d told him. Laughed and said, “You can’t buy a person, missy. Even a whore. Not permanently. And, if I may says so, I fear you have missed the point of whores completely. The reason you pay is so they leave you be after you’ve had your way.”

“I don’t want her to leave me be,” Emma said. She was smiling a dark smile, sucking her bottom lip, thinking about Regina’s mouth. “I will buy her, pirate. I have to. There are more than 50 pirates in that cell. Do you think any whore anywhere wouldn’t do what ever I wanted for 500 gold?”

“500 gold. Is that her price? She told you that?”

Emma was using the knife to flick imagined dirt from under her nails. She had been keeping her hands perfect lately, spotless, nails smooth as glass. The hands she used to touch Regina had to be perfect. “She hasn’t said a price.”

“One of my crew is a boy of 12 years. You planning to kill him for coin, missy? Assuming he lives yet?”

This made Emma bristle. She sniffed and stood up. “I have to go, pirate. I can’t be found here.”

“Aye missy, you’re a fool to come here at all. My charms are a terrible thing.” Emma laughed at that and while she was laughing he said, “when you return, do you think I could trouble you to bring me a little water.”

Emma frowned down into the dark. “He gives you no water?”

“No.”

“But you’ll die without water.”

She could hear the dark swallow. “He allows me-“ Hook paused, panting, “he allows me only-“ He paused again, Emma could hear him swallow again, several times, “he allows me to drink only his own piss. For which I must beg.”

“Oh.” Emma gasped, almost had to step backwards.

“I’m sorry, missy, I did not wish to alarm ye, with these horrors of the way that demon enjoys treating me. But there is it, so if you could-“ he coughed.

But Emma’s cunt was burning at the news of such degrading cruelty as this. She thought for a second of tying Regina down and pissing over her face. Ordering her to open her mouth, her eyes. And then she caught her breath, forcing the image away before it made her moan out loud. “I see,” she said steadily. “That does seem very harsh. Perhaps I could help, what will you give me?”

“Give you, sweetheart?”

“If I bring you water, what will you give me?”

Hook laughed. “Do I look like a man who has gifts to bestow? Princess you have truly encountered me at the wrong point of me career if you were hoping i would have treasures you could trade for. He has taken all that I am. He is a monster of quite some ambition.”

Emma sighed. “I see. Well, I am sure you’ll think of something, pirate.” 

She walked over the grille as she walked away. Walked right over him, out of the secret tunnel and into the rest of the dungeon. And there he was, Rumpelstiltskin, grinning and twitching. There was blood on his jerkin and on his hands. 

“Dearie!” he said with a grin a little too wide for a human face. “Come to play?”

Emma stared at him for a second. Helpless. He terrified her. It was like he saw what she truly was. Her palms were sticky and she wiped them on her green silk dress. It was the darkest dress she owned. The mostly likely to hide any stains. It was the dress she always wore on the first day of her own bleeding, but she was not wearing it for that reason today - she could not remember the last time she had bled.

Rumpelstiltskin flashed his eyebrows and shifted, flashed across the tunnel in front of her to appear at the opposite wall, leaning against it, legs crossed. “Well? How about it? I have two pirates in this cell. Already bound. And a nice fat bag of gold and other treats for your trouble.” His voice was full of glee, like he had never been happier.

Emma nodded slowly, thinking. Two tied up pirates? Probably rapers and if not then they would be like Hook and not care that men around them were rapers. All she had to do was sink her knife into them, and she could pay Regina. Maybe this time, she’d make her look at the gold she was earning while Emma whipped her then forced her to her knees and ground into her face. Emma’s nipples were hard think of it. She’d throw the gold across the floor, bind Regina’s wrists and make her collect it up with her mouth.

Readied, Emma went to lift her knife and it wasn’t in her hand. She gave a little gasp and heard Rumpelstiltskin laugh. When she looked over at him, of course, he was tossing her knife from hand to hand. “This is my son’s knife,” he said brightly. “He didn’t give it to you to kill pirates, did he?”

Emma swallowed and shook her head.

“But who else is in this castle…?” Rumpelstiltskin pretended to think a moment, then threw his head back in mock realisation. “Aha! Surely he didn’t mean you should use it to defend yourself against me! The Dark One! Oh, he is either a fool or he does not care for you a bit. Which is it, dearie?”

“I don’t,” Emma swallowed a stammer. “I don’t know, sir. He was just trying to keep me safe. He is my husband.” She took another breath. “And how would you have me kill your wretched pirates then without my knife? I am just a woman. You surely can’t be expecting me to strangle them with my own hands.”

He smiled like he had been waiting for this. “Of course not, dearie.”

Emma almost jumped as the magic happened. And then, in her hands was a thick iron bar as long as her arm. Thick and rusty like an old tent pole. Emma’s breath caught. “This?” She weighed it in her hands. 

“You up to it, dearie? Bludgeoning?” His tongue moved inside his mouth, touching his teeth. “Quite a messy - ah - business.”

“You want me to beat them, to death, with this?” The bar was heavy. She couldn’t be sure how hard she could swing it.

“That’s right. Good luck. Try not to hesitate…” And Rumpelstiltskin’s voice faded as Emma felt her own body melt away… 

She reappeared in a barred cell, straw on the floor and two filthy looking pirates, bound hand and foot, gazing at her with wide eyes. The bar was heavy, it hurt her hands to grip it tight. But she didn’t even pause for breath. She stepped towards the nearest of them, and lifted it as high as she could. 

She got a lucky blow on the nearest one. The bar came down hard on his skull, splitting it, blood flying everywhere. He barely got to yell out as she took him, her own blood pounding. However this alarmed the other, who had been sprayed with gore and who, as soon as Emma turned to him, was squirming away across the small cell.

Emma stalked after him. The panic lighting his eyes made her feel a strange, deep thrill. 

“No, no, missy,” he managed to spit out. “Wait. Hold. I know ye. You’re the lass what killed Bailey. And good for you, he was a nasty piece of work, Bailey. But, please, don’t kill me. I’m not like him. Have mercy.” 

“I see,” said Emma. He’d squirmed until the cell wall was at his back. Emma was over him now. He had nowhere to go. “What’s your name, pirate?”

“Smee, missy. William Smee.”

“Well Mr Smee,” said Emma, weighing the bar in her left hand. “The thing is, this is really nothing personal. I just really need the money.”

It took six blows with the bar for Smee to stop moving.

*

 

Emma stormed into her rooms in the South tower. Regina was sitting cross legged on her bed, playing with cards. Emma threw a purse of coins at her. It hit her game and the playing cards flew everywhere. Regina gave a shriek of annoyance, then looked at Emma. And as she stared, Regina’s expression changed. Emma was panting. Her dress splattered with so much blood it even showed on the dark green. Her hands and hair marked with more. 

“Get your dress off.” Emma said, the words fitting awkwardly around her broken breath.

“Princess? Are you feeling okay? Perhaps you should lie down first. Let me stroke your hair. You’re not,” Emma saw Regina shiver, “you’re not yourself.”

“I said, get your dress off. I’m going to get something to tie you up. You’re not going to fucking come for hours.”

“Can we discuss this, princess?”

“No,” Emma shouted as the door banged shut behind her. 

She found some rope in the boot room, brought it back to find Regina sitting on the bed in her stockings and a black, boned waist cincher with silver and purple flowers embroidered on it. Emma felt her breath stutter and her cunt get heavy and hot at the sight of her, naked. Naked as ordered. The cincher made Regina’s tits jut out even more than usual, heavy and soft, nipples like little perfect berries. And below the cincher the curve of Regina’s cunt, the soft hair on it, a little shade of wet pink, of what lay beneath. And everywhere else her bare skin. An ocean of it. Translucent, smooth and soft, bare on her stomach and her tits and arms, dotted with dark hairs on her legs. Emma wanted to mark every bit of that skin, wanted to take hours over it. A bite or a scratch or a slap on every single spot. She was panting as she climbed onto the bed and started to kiss her.

Emma teased Regina’s lips. Kissing her messily and holding her hair tightly in two fists as she tormented her, pulling away and leaving Regina’s mouth straining, wanting after hers, Regina keening softly. 

Emma pressed Regina down onto the bed and covered her with her own body, kissing her still, teasing her mouth still. Licking over her lips as Regina strained after Emma’s lost, taunting mouth But Emma didn’t relent, enjoyed being cruel. Letting Regina have a taste of her mouth, a slip of her tongue then pulling back. Teasing her like that over and over.

“Please, princess,” Regina whispered. “Kiss me. Kiss me hard.”

“Oh I will,” Emma said softly. “I intend to. But first, I want to tie you down.”

“No princess, not that. Not today,” Regina breathed as Emma kissed down to her neck and started biting and sucking, marking her there.

“Why?” said Emma from the crook of Regina’s neck She reached down and started rolling and pinching Regina’s nipples. Just rubbing her fingertips over them, not pinching or rolling, just stroking them over and over until Regina was arching her back for more. “It’s what I want. I want to tie you up, whore.”

“I don’t,” Regina’s words were falling apart as Emma kept caressing her breasts and biting and licking at her neck, “I don’t… because, ah, uh… It’s dangerous. The mood you’re in.” Regina was stroking the fabric of Emma’s dress, touching the blood stains on it.

“Shush,” Emma cooed, licking her way back up Regina’s neck, kissing her mouth again, softly. “You don’t have to worry about me, beautiful. I’m not dangerous. And I won’t do anything you don’t like.” And Emma pushed her tongue fast and rough into Regina’s mouth, kissing her like she was fucking. Her tongue moving harder and faster, Regina moaned and her lips opened wider, wanting to take it like a bitch.

“Princess,” Regina moaned at the end of the long vicious kiss. “Princess, really? You’re covered in blood.”

“You like it,” Emma whispered. “I’m a monster.” Emma reached down and slapped Regina’s thigh, hard enough that Regina cried out and Emma felt that cry in her own cunt. “It turns you on, whore.”

Regina was panting, could barely answer, “Princess, what is happening to you?”

Emma slapped Regina’s thigh again, harder, in the same stinging spot, then sat up straddling Regina. “Shut up, whore. You know you want this.” Emma reached down, under her own lap and found Regina’s bare cunt. Regina moaned as her fingers played over her. She was so wet Emma could feel it coating the outside, slick and sticky there already. Emma slipped two fingers easily into the groove of Regina’s pussy and looked down at her her, splayed on the bed, neck already marked with bites, panting and tossing her head on the pillows as Emma stroked her, gasping herself at how hot and wet she was there.

“Let me tie you down, whore,” Emma whispered.

“No, no.” Regina was arching up, off the bed, pressing into Emma’s touch, practically grinding herself, fucking herself on Emma’s fingers. 

Emma slapped Regina’s face. “Don’t say no to me, whore. I’m paying for this. I decide. And letting me tie you down is the only way you’ll get what you want anyway, you fucking slut. You’ll give in sooner or later, so how about we just hurry things along a bit. I will be tying you down and you will be letting me do it. And if you complain, that means I will have to stop touching you here,” she squeezed Regina’s pussy, “to stop up that whining mouth, and you’ll be the sorry one.” Regina swallowed and said nothing. Emma had the rope she’d fetched on the bed. “I think you like rope. I think you’re just as much of a slut for it as you are for pain.” With her free hand she took hold of it in a tangled bunch and rubbed it up Regina’s body. It was rough, scratchy rope, tough and fibrous. It left red marks where Emma had scraped it on Regina’s skin. Regina moaned darkly at the touch of it, pressing towards it like she wanted more. Emma kept stroking Regina’s cunt while she slunk up her body after the cruel handful of rope. Regina bucked harder and harder onto Emma’s hand, moaning for it. 

When she reached Regina’s ear, Emma whispered. “Going to tie you down tight now, whore. Keep still.”

*

When both the pirates were dead, Emma had staggered panting out of the cell to find Rumpelstiltskin standing there. He had a few tiny flecks of blood on his right cheek that hadn’t been there before. “Nice work,” he said. Not in his usual theatrical voice, but simply. Just a statement.

Emma, breathless, her blood singing, gave him the metal bar without a word.

“You’re lucky,” Rumpelstiltskin said, handing over a bag of coin, “that I don’t ask you what you’re doing with this gold.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did ask,” said Emma. It was strange, but in that moment, two monsters, they were equals. She didn’t fear him, he didn’t put on a show for her. The were playing their game. Both of them knew.

“Maybe I don’t need you to,” said Rumpelstiltskin carelessly.

As Emma climbed up the steps from the dungeon she looked in the bag. On top of the gold coins was a carved wooden dildo. Oiled perfectly smooth, almost warm to the touch.

*

And Regina didn’t protest. Emma tied her wrist to the bed posts above her head, spreading her arms wide, caressing her skin as she did so, and did the same with her ankles, drawing the ropes up until Regina was taut and gasping, the rough rope biting at her skin, already leaving marks. Then Emma added more over the waist cincher and used it as an anchor to thread a vicious crotch rope between Regina’s thighs, that awful rope digging into her bare pussy. And when Emma pulled it tight, Regina moaned uncontrollably, pressing herself against it, writhing. “That’s right, whore,” Emma said using he palm to push the rope even closer as Regina ground down. “Don’t say I never give you anything.”

With Regina held helpless, Emma went back to teasing her mouth and tits, kissing her deeply then pulling back while she still wanted more, taunting, pouting, holding her own mouth just out of Regina’s reach, giving Regina nothing more but a tiny flicker of her tongue, just to make her want it more. She pinched and stroked Regina’s nipples again until Regina was bucking onto the rope between her legs.

“It’s not enough though, is it?” Emma said, reaching down to trace the crotch rope with her fingers. “It’s just,” she kissed Regina’s panting mouth, “another,” one more kiss, “tease.” And then Emma feigned a final kiss, puling away at the last moments and, instead shoving the based of the wooden dildo into Regina’s mouth. Regina groaned, but realised right away what she was required to do, held it steady. “That’s it, darling,” Emma whispered and she flipped around, swung a leg over Regina and let her own wet, wanting cunt, slide down the dildo so fast and so sweet she gasped and saw stars.

Emma fucked herself hard, fast on the wooden cock, putting her hands on Regina’s thighs and watching Regina squirm against the teasing, not-enough rope between her legs. Imagining her own wet spill, slipping down the dick onto Regina’s face, everywhere, as she struggled to hold the dick steady or even breathe. Emma could see Regina’s frustrated grindings against the teasing rope between her legs get more frantic, knew it was hopeless - revelled in Regina’s muffled, needy moans that confirmed it.

As she got herself closer to coming, fucking Regina’s helpless mouth, she reached down and pinched both Regina’s nipples hard. Regina yelped under Emma’s skirts and Emma felt Regina’s cry of pain zip right through her, pushing her higher. So she did it again, sighing and moaning. Feeling a climax building. She imagined that metal bar was back in her hands, imagined leaning over and shoving it into Regina, completely the circle as she lay there spread open and helpless, slick, but hardly slick enough to take that thick, rusty bloodied bar. She scream _no_ \- like she’d said no to being tied - but she’d have no say, if she complained too much Emma would gag her and laugh at her and keep on fucking her with that metal bar covered with pirate blood.

At that, Emma slammed her hips down hard on the wooden cock, and came, twisting at Regina’s tits again, listening to her desperate moans…

She left Regina tied and lay next to her. Took the cock from her mouth and stroked her damp hair as Regina stretched out her jaw.

“You got enough money to pay for my mouth. That was my mouth-” Regina said, hoarsely. Her statement broken at the end by a moan as Emma slipped her fingers under the crotch rope.

“I have more than enough. But that’s not what I want to talk about buying. Give me a price,” Emma stroked lightly around Regina’s clit, she was so slick her fingers were skating around wildly. “Give me a price for you, whore. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you. How much?”

Regina’s eyes snapped open, big and dark and wide. Her breathing was rough, she was close to coming. “A price, princess? For me? Okay, how about: this castle.”


	8. Chapter 8

“This rope,” declared Regina, squirming in the heavy wooden chair, “is the worst rope I have ever been tied with.”

Emma, pulled the knots tighter at Regina’s wrists - securing them together behind the chair back with some force - and got the precise groan of desire and discomfort she wanted, then leaned in close, her lips right there at Regina’s neck, and whispered, “Good.” She was burning with anticipation, already giddy with it.

Regina sighed, low and deep and it was needy and antagonised both at once. “You’re such a fucking bitch, princess.”

Emma lips were still pressed to Regina’s ear. She was completely bound to the chair now, nothing was going to move. Her wrists were strapped up behind her, more ropes criss-crossed her tits. She was naked - so vulnerable. Emma licked over her ear. “You love it,” and she breathed out - the air on damp flesh making Regina shiver, “whore.” And Regina was still shuddering, when, without any further warning, Emma look to pair of bright silver nipple clamps and snapped them onto Regina’s tight, pretty nipples. Regina yelled out in pain, jerking, helpless in the ropes and Emma felt blood race to the her cunt, a consuming rush of power. She gripped the back of the chair for a second, tight, as her arousal nearly overwhelmed her and then straightened and walked around the chair until she was facing Regina. 

Regina was making _that_ face, the face she made when she was working hard to manage pain.

Emma almost moaned aloud at the sight of it.

The last time Rumpelstiltskin had paid her - this time for killing five pirates by setting the cell they were trapped in on fire - these clamps had been in the heavy bag of gold she’d earned for her work. 

She knew it was desperately wrong this, all of it. She knew it clearly, and yet, somehow, she couldn’t stop. She was breathless with the rush of it, heady, at the top of a windswept hill; she knew - oh she _knew_ she was being manipulated on all sides, and not least by her own wild, blood-rushing desire, but she couldn't, she just couldn’t stop. She reached out and flicked one of the vicious clamps and Regina yelled out, hit by another wave of pain. 

_Oh, but that was good_. Her face. Her beautiful face when Emma hurt her. Emma let her smile grow wider, she wanted Regina to know how much she was enjoying this, how much pleasure her pain brought, how Emma had hardly started. “Do those hurt, whore?” Emma said, her body swaying a little, the intensity of it making her unsteady on her feet.

Regina’s eyes were wide and wild. “Princess,” Regina said carefully, just swallowing and swallowing. “I think I need you to take these off.” And that was, that was _new_. Emma had never seen Regina struggle with pain like this before. She could tell the clamps were strong, and they had cruel little metal teeth that Emma could see biting into Regina’s flesh. Around them, Regina’s skin had turned white. She gave Emma one last pained look and put her head down, panting.

Emma could hardly hold the glee out of her voice. “No, you don’t. And I’m not taking them off. And I want them on you. I want them to stay on. I like the way you look when you’re hurting. I like you in pain.” And she reached out and flicked at the clamp again. 

Regina sobbed, “Please,” and looked up. Her eyes were big and teary. “When then? When will you take them off?” And she shook her tits a little, desperately, as if it might possible to shake the clamps free.

Emma gave this a second or two of thought. “I think, you have to keep those on until I come.”

And it seemed that was a target Regina could live with, because she pulled herself up a little against the rope that held her to the chair, set her jaw and looked Emma in the eye. “Okay. What would you like me to do? How would you like to come?”

Emma shrugged, “For a start, I’m going to need you to talk me much more nicely than that, whore.” 

Regina looked at Emma’s face for a second. She swallowed. “How do you wish to come, princess?” 

And Emma smiled. She was breathing heavily, no hope of disguising it. Her breath was ragged and desperate, watching Regina writhe against the ropes, knowing it was hopeless. “First,” Emma said, “I’m going to need you to thank me for those.” She nodded at the clamps.

Regina looked horrified. “I-I’m sorry, princess, I don’t think I can do that. It hurts. Please don’t make me thank you for something that hurts so fucking much.” She stared at Emma her eyes _begging_ , blinking wetly.

Emma pressed her thighs tight together. Regina really was too, too good at this. “You’re never going to get out of them, if you can’t even do this one thing for me. You don’t… you don’t really have a choice.” 

Emma watched Regina then, and, oh she looked good, with each breath coming roughly and her tits quivering and her shoulders shaking as she pulled them up again; and she was lifting her jaw. “Thank you then, princess,” she said, and it was angry. “Thank you for putting these fucking things on me.”

Emma shook her head. “Like you mean it.”

Regina moaned. It was a soft, broken sound. 

“Like you mean it, and then,” Emma smiled to herself, “and say that you love pain. That you get off on pain.” She said this gleefully. Making Regina do these things was delicious All she wanted, all she wanted more than anything was to force Regina to do things she didn’t want to do. To force her to endure. “And then say that I own you.”

Regina tipped her head back, for a moment - “oh, fuck, no,” - it came out on her breath. When she looked back at Emma her eyes were lit up with anger. She gave the ropes at her wrists a rough and futile tug and then looked Emma in the eyes. She was still blinking against tears. “Thank you, princess. Thank you for putting these very painful clamps on me. Thank you for making me wear them as long as you want me to wear them.” And then there was a short pause and Emma could see how much she was hurting painted on Regina’s face. “And,” she said, with a swallow, “I love pain. I love suffering for you. It turns me on. I think about it. I fantasise about it. It’s the only thing I think about when I come. Thank you.” A pause, a breath. “You own me, princess.”

Emma’s breath was coming rough and hard and Regina looked down, looking pleased with herself. Emma waited, let her feel a moment of triumph, then said, “Ask for weights.”

Regina’s head shot back up, and then she grunted, because that jerky movement had jolted the clamps. “Weights on the clamps?”

Emma grinned. She thought she probably looked manic, mad. “Of course, weights on the clamps.”

“Oh, fuck no. I can’t.”

“You can. You’re only getting out of this is you do everything I tell you.”

Regina shot Emma the grimmest of looks. She was panting. She steadied herself and swallowed twice. “These things don’t hurt me enough, princess, weight them.” Her voice was angry and rough. Emma wanted sweet pleading. She considered making her do it again. But she didn’t. There was a box on the table. It had come in the sack with the clamps. Emma reached inside it and pulled out four shiny silver weights. The clamps didn’t have a chain between them, just a metal loop on each one. The weights each had a hook. 

Emma was almost shaking. She moved closer, looked into Regina’s eyes. “Say… please.”

“Please what?”

“You choose.”

Regina looked up at Emma, eyes hard, and said, “P-please hurt me more, princess. I love it.”

Sharp and quick, Emma hooked one of the weights into one of the clamps and let it drop. Regina’s moan was short, bitten off and replaced by hard, ragged breathing. 

Emma reached out and raised her chin a tiny fraction, wanting to see her eyes. “Hurts a lot, does it?”

Regina took a couple of hard breaths then forced - “hardly felt it,” - through her teeth. 

Emma touched Regina’s bottom lip, rolling it down, just playing with it, as she felt for the other weight and slipped it into place on the other clamp. Regina’s moan this time was just broken. Emma sighed and leant her head on Regina’s shoulder. “You’re so brave,” she whispered.

“Don’t think I don’t know that, you sadistic fucking bitch.”

Emma slid onto Regina’s lap. She was so wet now, just grinding down had her so close. She put her hand over Regina’s mouth, used the other to block her nose and rubbed herself to orgasm on Regina’s lap, while Regina gasped and choked, desperate for air, in pain. And Emma reached down to remove both clamps at once as she hit her peak - so that as she yelled out, Regina screamed and screamed.

“But I don’t really own you,” Emma said sadly as she stroked Regina’s face a moment later. It was damp with sweat. 

Regina shook her head. “Not in the way you to, princess.”

Emma sighed. “You know I can’t get you this castle.”

“Then you’re stuck, aren’t you princess?”

Emma wondered if she was.

 

*

 

She had only meant to tease him a moment with the canteen of water, make like she wasn’t going to give it to him before she did. But she didn’t because the voice that said, “Is that you, lass?” was so hollow, so _broken_ that it gave her a better idea. A terrible idea. Though she shouldn’t be here at all. It seemed such an intrusion. But she couldn’t stay away from this place. What Rumpelstiltskin was doing to this wretched creature, haunted her dreams almost as much as Regina’s sweetly swollen tits.

At first she couldn’t see him. Then, right at the back, she caught a tiny movement. She lifted the torch but before the beam of it could reach him, he said, “Ah, no, princess. Not the light. Not today.”

And she thought it’d be wrong to try and see what he was hiding from her, but she couldn’t resist. She wanted to know too badly to let him have that. She sat down on the floor, torch in her hands. The floor was dirty - gritty and unpleasant to sit on. 

The light from the torch slipped through the metal grille on the floor. He was lying on his side. She could see the laboured rise and fall of his chest. And it was hard to make out, at first, exactly what was wrong, but then she realised: there was no skin on his back at all. Not from flogging. She’d seen flogging injuries on almost all the pirates now. This was flaying, and Emma’s heart leapt to realise it. Not because the horror of it gave her a thrill that burrowed down inside her, vicious and dark. But because she knew this was what she needed. This was perfect.

She took a breath and found Hook’s glassy eyes with hers.

“I didn’t want ye to see this, missy,” he said. His voice stuttering and failing. “I will not be here to hear your sordid tales of whoremongering much longer. He almost killed me last time, for all that he wants me to suffer. He’s enjoying himself too much, and not as in control as he thinks he might be.” Apart from the red, wet flesh of his back, he was as white and pale as a piece of ivory.

Emma leaned even closer. It was silent in the dungeon, there was no one here but the two of them, nevertheless, this was the biggest risk she’d ever taken. “If he’s to kill you, pirate,” she hissed, “why not, instead, help me to kill him?”

“So that’s the price she’s given you, lass?” He gave a laugh that sounded close to a death rattle. “And you know how to kill him, do you, princess?”

“No,” said Emma, screwing up her last shred of hope. “Do you?”

The torchlight caught his grin. “There’s a dagger with his name on it somewhere in the castle, missy. Can you bring it to me?”


	9. Chapter 9

Emma often thought about Regina when she was in Baelfire’s bed. Sometimes, she would scratch her nails down his back, when he was inside her and he would wince and pant harder and she would wonder if this - just this - could ever satisfy her. Just him. But she couldn’t imagine telling Baelfire she wanted to tie him to a chair and see if she could hurt him so much he wept and begged for her to stop. And she didn’t even know if she did want that. Or what she would do if he allowed it and she found it had no effect on her desire. 

Imagine if he’d let her take that from him for nothing.

“Let’s change,” she whispered to Baelfire as he fucked her. And they repositioned so she was in top of him. He had enjoyed it this way, when she had first shown it to him, but now he preferred her underneath. She usually allowed him to take what he wanted - it made so little difference. Above him, she moved herself on his cock. Squeezed it. He had such a sweet plain, open face. She said, “Captain Hook wants to kill your father.”

Baelfire’s eyes narrowed. He was already close to his edge, breathy and wild with it. “How do you - how do you know that?”

“You told me,” said Emma, lifting her arms and crossing them behind her head; she felt him jolt inside her as her tits moved. “Or at least,” she was panting too, “you told me enough to guess. Could he? Could he kill him?”

“He’s dead, Captain Hook,” said Baelfire, with a shiver. Emma realised, Baelfire liked this. Something about this. Liked Captain Hook or liked the idea of his father dying or perhaps both. She fucked herself faster onto him. “But does he know how to, _did_ he?” she panted.

“Oh yes. Yes, he did,” Baelfire said, reaching out and grabbing her hips, hard, making her move faster. “Yes, he does. Oh, he does.” Baelfire said, as he jerked and came.

Emma dropped onto him while he was still heaving with it. Kissed his quivering lips until his eyes opened. “You sure?” she whispered. “How does he know.”

Baelfire looked at her, eyes still glassy. “I told him,” he said. 

*

The Dark Castle was never really silent. Sometimes, in some places, moaning could be heard from the dungeon, or from some other poor wretch left to starve, imprisoned in the courtyard. Belle, the single, solitary serving girl, often sang when she thought no one was around to hear her. And, even when those human noises were silenced the place was full of hissing and bubbling, strange wheezing sounds, like the magic that had built it was still settling. Like the place was breathing, softly, in the night.

Emma didn’t take a torch. She felt her way through the living castle, trailing her fingers along the wall, until she found Rumpelstiltskin’s study. When she got inside and closed the door, she finally allowed herself to light the stub of candle she’d brought in the pocket of her nightdress. As she looked around the clutter, enormous room, her heart dropped.

The room was heaped with magical objects. Shelves stacked high, drawers over-flowing. Some of the things sparked to life in her hands. Lit up or, even, cried out, she threw these object across the room, panic growing as each sound brought her another step closer to discovery. 

But eventually she pushed back the rich embroidered rug on the floor, crawling, tracing the floorboards with her shaking hands. There was nowhere else it could be. Perhaps she was wrong - it wasn’t in this room. But then her palm caught on a floorboard that wasn’t quite flush, and when she pulled at it, it came loose, lifted and there, right there, glittering treasure, was a long ceremonial dagger. Her breath went. 

_Rumpelstiltskin_ was written across the jagged blade. 

Emma reached into the hole. Her fingers closed around the hilt at the exact same moment that a violent jolt of magic tore her across the room and slammed her into the far wall. 

Panting, Emma looked around. She was so winded she couldn’t speak. Rumpelstiltskin was in the doorway, skin glittering, teeth like broken gravestones. He smiled a slow, sly smile. “And what ever are you doing in here, dearie?”

There wasn’t something different about the way Rumpelstiltskin was looking at her. Something she’d never seen before. He was posed in the doorway, one leg cocked and one hand in the air. But in his eyes, something was different and strange. 

Emma realised with a thud of her heart, that she was still holding the dagger. She brought it to chest height and covered her right hand, on the hilt, with her left. “This,” she said, finding her voice at last, “this can kill you.”

“It can that, princess. But you do have to drive it through my heart. Aha. And without magic, that does seem unlikely.” He let his smile spread too wide across his glimmering face. “May I ask, how you knew of the existence of such a thing.”

Emma was shaking so hard it was an effort to keep the dagger still. She gripped it so tight her fingers hurt. “Captain Hook told me about it.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s eyebrows flashed. “So you’ve met that creature,” he said, as if this was news. “I was hoping to keep him as a surprise, wait until you were ready to show me what you were truly deeply capable of. I want that thing to suffer more than any of them... I’ll tell you what, dearie.” Rumpelstiltskin took a single long step into the room. Emma squeezed the dagger’s hilt again. “Return that blade to me and kill him, however you choose and you can name your price." 

Emma swallowed. “I want this castle,” she said quickly. “All of it. You and Baelfire to leave. Give it to me and let me be free to live here how I please. You said you built it. You can easily build another.”

“I see. And that’s what you want. For your little whore.”

Emma lifted her chin. “Yes.”

“And if I refuse, what? You’ll get past me somehow, get to the dungeons, give that thing to that creature Hook, who, we both know, is barely alive, and he will hunt me down and kill me with it. Is that correct?” He opened his arms to her. “Emma? Is that your plan?”

“Yes,” said Emma. “That’s what I’ll do. I will watch him kill you. You know what I’m capable of.”

Rumpelstiltskin started to walk towards Emma and she lifted the dagger higher to her chest. “Do you know,” he began in musical tones, “what would happen if that pirate killed me, dearie. He would become the Dark One, cursed with my powers. I was a simple man when it befell me. A scared little wretch, if you must know. Quite, quite innocent. Have you any idea what would happen if a creature as corrupt as that _thing_ were to take my power.” Rumpelstiltskin stopped, just out of Emma’s reach.

“I don’t - I don’t care.” 

“Oh you will care, missy,” Rumpelstiltskin hissed. “You will care when that creature makes you and Bae and your mistress his slaves. When he tosses you to his crew of rapers. He will be far worse than me, however you may loathe me, princess, and I do not blame you that loathing - I have taken you from your parents, forced you to give your body to my son, imprisoned you here, pushed you to indulge your worst cravings - although I did allow you one light in the darkness of course, I was afeared you would go crazy without her.”

Emma felt sick, her head was spinning. The dagger. She knew al she had to do was keep hold of the dagger. “You always knew about her?”

Rumpelstiltskin face changed. He was still smiling, but his face was dark and nasty. “Of course I did. She was part of my plan. How do you think she gets in and out of my castle so easily? I sent her to you, dearie. I told her to find your darkness. Eek it out of you. She has a certain talent for it, that one.”

Emma couldn’t stop the dagger shaking, even held so tight in her hands. “No.”

Rumpelstiltskin smiled again.“Now give me the dagger, dearie and, if you like, you can help me plan just how we’ll kill that creature.”

And Emma’s throat was thick, tears were pricking hard at her eyes. “Why? Why did you do this?”

“Oh, dearie, no tears, aha,” Rumpelstiltskin threw his hands in the air. “I did it because I want an heir whose heart is black. And my son, for all that I have tried, refuses to embrace darkness. So I found you. The perfect mother. A creature like you. You are carrying my grandchild. You did know?”

Emma was suddenly so grateful for the wall at her back holding her up. She felt like the whole world was spinning now, everything was whirling and falling, out of control. She was out of control. She shut her eyes for a second, shook her head as if trying to shift something. Rumpelstiltskin reached out to take the dagger and Emma wrenched it away from his reach. “Get away - just, get away from me,” she barked. 

And then, with a horrified expression, Rumpelstiltskin took a step back. She saw his throat move in a hard swallow.

Emma looked from him to the dagger and back again. “You,” she said, her mouth suddenly dry, “you have to do as I say.”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, not saying no, just full of horror. “Dearie…”

“Go and sit at your desk,” said Emma, clearly. And Rumpelstiltskin turned and went to his desk and sat down. Emma smiled. “And stay here,” she said.

*

Emma rushed through the dungeons to Hook’s cell, skidded around a corner and slammed right into a wall. She cursed, and as she straightened herself she heard a voice say, “Princess?”

There was a cell door at her back, Emma turned slowly and peered through the tiny barred window, “Regina?”

“Emma, I… I’m in here because. He found me.” Regina was speaking fast, scared. “He caught me leaving and locked me up down here. I don’t think he knows I was here for you.”

Emma sneered at Regina. In the cell, she was wearing a plain shift, her face was smutty with grime - she was nothing like the extravagant whore she usually presented to Emma. “Stop lying,” Emma said, her voice hard. “I know you work for him. You made me do all that _stuff_ to you.”

“I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to you, princess.” Close to tears, Emma huffed out a sigh and turned away. But Regina shouted after her. “No, princess, wait. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. I didn’t know the true horror of it at first. I didn’t know it was about a child. I thought he just wanted that for his son, wanted you to please him, wanted me to teach you something he would enjoy. And he paid me well, so well. You wouldn’t understand princess, you grew up in a castle. I am from a world of starvation and disease. He offered me gold that would change my life, princess, and the lives of everyone I loved. But I never realised I feel - I’d feel - what I feel - about you.”

“What? What about me.” Emma’s face was still hard. She felt sick, again. Sick deep in her chest. In her heart.

“Forgive me, princess. Whatever you’re planning, to take your revenge on him, let me join you. let me help you.” Regina’s eyes were glittering with tears. “Please.”

Emma shook her head. “How can I - how can I fucking trust you? Now?”

“I’ll do whatever you want. However you want me to prove it. Whatever you want. You can own me, just the way you want to, you can.” Regina’s eyes were wet and bright.

And at that, Emma’s legs were shaking. She nodded slowly and drew back the bolts of the cell. 

*

Emma dragged Regina through the dungeons by a punishing, too-tight grip on her wrist. They were neither of them princess and whore now, Emma in her nightdress and Regina in her shift. It was cold in the dungeons and both of them were shivering, as Emma pulled Regina through false wall to the grille that covered Hook’s cell. 

When she bent to look, he was barely moving on the floor. Both his ankles looked broken and his chest was covered in deep gashes, that crossed each other like some kind of intentional ritual pattern. “Hook,” Emma hissed, crouching down on the grille. She was terrified he might be dead, but then he opened his eyes and when he saw what she was holding, he grinned like a wolf.

“Throw it down to me, princess,” he said, his voice just a shape around his breath.

“In a moment. I have something I need to do with it first.” She turned to Regina, her voice dropped low. “I own you, do I whore? Lie down. On your back. On the grille. Proof how much you're willing to give me.”

Regina stretched her eyes. “Princess?”

“Now. Or you can rot in your fucking cell when we kill The Dark One." Emma's chest was _heaving_

Flustered, Regina got onto her back, letting the shift fall away from her legs. She was bare beneath it. Her cunt glittered in the light from Emma’s candle, wet already. Emma knelt, carefully and pressed a kiss to the place were Regina’s slit began. Regina gasped. And then Emma took the dagger and gently opened her up with the blade. “Keep still, whore,” she whispered, words just breath pushing through her shaking lips. Her nipples were tight and the hairs on the back of her neck were up on end.

As soon as the metal touched her. Regina tried to sit up, but Emma pressed a hand onto her stomach, shoving her back down, warning her. “I said,” she snarled, “don’t move.” And she rubbed the flat of the dagger blade over Regina’s clit. 

Regina moaned softly and bucked forward for it. And Emma moved again, using the blade to make Regina writhe until she was keening, rolling her head with want. When she was soaking, as wet as Emma had ever seen her, Emma slowly slid the tip of the dagger into Regina’s shadowy little entrance. And Regina moaned more darkly, whispered, “Please, please no, princess, not that, princess. Not the knife in me,” but Emma saw her nipples stand up like hard peaks at the dangerous touch. Emma rubbed two fingers over Regina’s slippery, eager clit. “Princess, please,” Regina whispered even as she pushed into Emma's fingers, “please, don’t let me come with that thing in me. I’ll hurt myself.”

“Shush, shush,” Emma stroked Regina’s bare stomach. “We have to trust each other. Trust me. Tell me when you’re close, baby.” And she stroked Regina’s clit faster, harder, making Regina’s thigh shake and _shake_ as she fought to keep still around the blade.

After a moment, Regina cried out, “Oh, princess, oh, please, I need to come - I can't -,” and Emma swept the dagger away and pushed her fingers into Regina instead, dipped her head to kiss her clit and felt Regina pulse shockingly hard all around her, screaming out, “Oh princess, princess. Yes!”

*

Afterwards, as she held her, Emma looked past Regina, over her shoulder, through the grille and down into Hook’s cell. Where Hook was holding the dagger she’d dropped. 

He smiled at her and his eyes were white and wide.


	10. Chapter 10

“Emma,” the pirate said, and Emma saw his throat moved as he swallowed. It seemed painful. Like perhaps, at some point, Rumpelstiltskin had forced something unpleasant down his throat. It didn’t seem unlikely.

Emma shuddered - not wanting to think too much about any of the things that had been done, and yet wanting to know every vicious detail. “Do you need me to take you to him? To Rumpelstiltskin? For what is to be done?”

The pirate smiled, shook his head. He held the dagger up in the air above his prone, broken body and said, with some effort, “Dark One, I summon thee.”

Emma took a breath. She pressed herself back against Regina.

Rumpelstiltskin appeared in the cell with a soft _pop_ ; he looked terrified. He looked from the dagger to the pirate and then up to Emma. And then, he just seemed to break - terrified. He took one shaky step backwards, away from the pirate. 

“Uh. No,” said the pirate, drawing himself up with a little difficultly, so he was almost sitting. Despite the discomfort, he grinned wide. “Do not move, demon. I have thee now.”

Rumpelstiltskin, with some visible effort, turned his shiver into a sneer. He nodded, shakily. “So you do, dearie. And now, you intend to kill me as you have always desired?”

The pirate turned the dagger around in his broken, single-fingered hand. “I always meant to kill you. I’ve wanted to for so, so long.” His voice was hoarse and distant - Emma craned to hear him. “When we hauled Baelfire from the water that day, I knew he was a gift from fate, knew if I held onto him long enough, you’d come to us… But when your dear son told me about this magnificent item, killing you seemed like a tiresome idea compared with the possibilities.” He ran his tongue over his chapped, broken lips. “Why kill you when I have this, Dark One? You think I want your stinking curse inside me own body? Oh no, this is going to be much more fun.” He drew himself up a little more and placed the stump of his left arm on Rumpelstiltskin’s shaking shoulder.“Take me to your son,” he sneered.

“What?” Emma was peering down into the cell, gripping the bars of the grille, fingers turning white. “But you said you would, you said you’d kill him.”

The pirate looked up at Emma and winked. “Sorry about that, darling,” he said as both he and Rumpelstiltskin vanished in a cloud of green smoke.

Emma looked at the empty cell for a moment. Just stared down, couldn’t believe it - didn’t know quite, what this meant. Regina was sitting next to her on the grille, she’d adjusted her clothes whilst watching the whole thing.

“Where will Baelfire be?” Regina said, with a hand on the small of Emma’s back.

“His room,” said Emma. “He’s always in his room. Is Captain Hook going to kill him? Make Rumpelstiltskin kill him? Kill his own son? Is that the vengeance he wants?”

Regina took Emma’s hand, held it tight. “We should go and find out, darling. Concentrate on your husband’s room. Hard as you can.” And Regina’s magic wrapped itself around them as the dungeon melted away.

*

They stuttered into existence in the middle of Baelfire’s room. The room Emma usually slept in. The bed where he took her, where he’d put a child into her. He was standing by the fireplace, pale and baffled. The pirate and Rumpelstiltskin were facing him, in the middle of the room. Rumpelstiltskin on his knees, tears in his eyes and Captain Hook, now dressed entirely in black leather, pacing around, triumphant.

When Baelfire saw Emma he stared for a second and said, “Emma! How did you do that?”

Emma dropped Regina’s hand, realising with a start that Baelfire might dislike magic, might be horrified to see his wife do magic. “I - “ she began, then paused and said, “it’s not me, it’s Regina.”

Baelfire looked dumbly at Regina and nodded. It didn’t seem to matter to him, who this woman was, maybe it didn’t, with everything else - with his father crying in the middle of the room - with the pirate in control of him. It made Emma shudder and sicken to see this powerful man so low, even a demon such as him.

And then Baelfire said, “I’m sorry we involved you in all of this, Emma.”

Emma frowned. “In what?” She looked around the room again. Captain Hook smiled at her, he was still pacing around, but, looking closer, she saw he appeared as if he might pass out at any moment. “You mean the dagger? Fetching the dagger.”

Baelfire nodded and Captain Hook said, “Aye, missy, you did a fine job for us.”

“Us?” Emma took a step closer to Regina. Without really thinking her hand slipped around Regina’s waist and drew her close, as if to protect her. “You and Baelfire?”

Baelfire’s bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry, Emma,” he said as if he intended to keep on and on apologising to her. “It had to be you, I’m sorry. It had to be you.”

Emma looked again at the dagger the pirate held. “I had to fetch it?” she said. “Couldn’t you just fetch it yourself?”

“I’m not such a fool as that,” Rumpelstiltskin spat, suddenly, from his place on the floor. His voice was a whisper, but a determined one. “I love my son, but I’ve known for a long time he wished only to destroy me. The hiding place of the dagger is warded against him. He had to use you, dearie. That’s why he asked for a bride.” His face twisted nastily as he turned to her. “That’s why you’re here at all.”

Emma swallowed. Her throat was thick. “Why not just ask me then? I would have fetched it and brought it to you. I could have helped if I’d known the truth.”

“Would you, Emma?” said Baelfire. “You who had been sold to me? I’m not sure you would. We barely knew each other outside the bedroom. Could I really trust you not to tell my father what I’d asked? My father is a powerful man, he likes deals. And he likes information. Can you swear to me, Emma, even now, that you would not have used that information to buy your own way out of this place?” Baelfire’s face was solemn and, as Emma looked back at him, she knew he was right. She would have done anything to get out. Or to get gold for Regina’s mouth. She had done anything. Did Baelfire even know about all she’d done in this place?

She nodded. Just slow. “So you had the pirate tell me about it. How did you know I’d even find him?”

“Hope, missy,”said the pirate. “I knew he’d keep me alive as long as he could. Long enough for you to find me. And now he can suffer. He can live on here without his son, alone, in his castle, knowing his son hates him so much, he would rather take up with his own worst enemy.” The pirate grinned and on the floor Rumpelstiltskin whimpered.

“But he was torturing you! Your fingers! Your skin!” 

Captain Hook raised an eyebrow. “Oh aye, missy. Thank you for the reminder.” He turned his dark, glittering eyes on Rumpelstiltskin and bared his teeth as he said. “Fix it. Demon. Fix me. My fingers, my skin. And my throat where you forced that pipe down it.” He gave Emma a little wink. “Pretty sure he all but killed me that time. Dick not enough, was it?” And the pirate kicked at his tormenter on the floor. “Brought me back with a touch of magic. Such filthy sorcery that was.”

Emma looked at Baelfire. He was staring at the pirate. His face full of love and sadness.

Rumpelstiltskin sneered up at the pirate. He looked almost sickened as he pulled some shimmering magic out of the air and hurled it towards the pirate’s broken places, which sparked and mended as Emma watched. “And the hand?” said Rumpelstiltskin his voice dripping bitterness.

Captain Hook shook his head. “Ah, no, demon. I likes me hook. Tis a useful thing for a man to have.” His voice dropped, dark. “You want to know what I do to your son with it?” What I do to your son, with the hook you gave to me?” 

No one responded. Emma’s eyes went to Baelfire’s. He shook his head and looked at the rich carpet, going red at the temples.

Eventually Emma said, “So what are you to do now? If you have resolved not to kill him?”

“We will leave,” said Captain Hook, brightly. “He will bring back my ship, and I will take this pretty blade as insurance, in case the creature ever follows us again.”

“And me?” Emma drew closer to Regina again, holding her waist. She was shivering. Both of them were still all but naked in cotton shifts. 

Captain Hook looked at them. “You? I care not. It is of no importance.”

“Will you take me with you? Both of us? You can’t leave me here with him.”

Captain Hook looked the Baelfire then back to Emma. “No. That I won’t. Someone needs to stay.”

Emma turned to her husband, eyes widening in horror. “Baelfire. You can’t just abandon me. I’m your wife. I’m carrying your child.”

Baelfire looked to Emma’s stomach and said, “Oh, Emma. It’s too late for that. Is it mine?” HIs eyes were on Regina then. “Who else have you lain with?”

Emma swallowed. “No other men.” 

Baelfire shook his head. Sadly. “You should stay, Emma. Stay with my father. I think you will enjoy each other.” And, at that, he smiled. Emma had never cared for Baelfire, truly, not really cared for him at all, but it still hurt that he’d do this to her. Leave her with a creature he wouldn’t tolerate himself. She turned away from all of them, turned to Regina, wanted to crumple into her embrace, and was shocked when Regina pushed her away, hard. 

Emma took a sharp breath as she fell to the floor. Regina turned and ran across the room. She was screaming, enraged. She snatched the dagger from Captain Hook before he had time to react of even realise what was happening and spun around. 

Regina hurled herself at Rumpelstiltskin, crouched on the floor, sunk the blade into him and was instantly overwhelmed by smoke and magic and light.

Emma screamed.

*

It was more difficult to move down the steps to the dungeon with her belly so large. Sometimes it almost felt enough to over balance her and she would creep, hands clinging to the wall, taking each step gingerly.

Regina’s new power was messy and she only seemed to have control of it when she was angry or rageful. When she was lucid the magic was fitful and weak, almost as if the power wanted her to give into her baseness - rewarded her for it. Balefire and Captain Hook had both said that Emma possessing the dagger would help her. That she had the power to command Regina and could teach her whatever behaviour Emma wished. Of course this had enflamed Emma at first, hearing that, realising what it meant, squeezing the hilt of the dagger so hard her fingers went pale and pinched, as Regina lay on the floor of Baelfire’s room - still unconscious.

As she reached the bottom of the dungeon steps, Emma bit her bottom lip. She leant heavily against the wall for breath for a moment, before following the passage all the way around until she reached Captain Hook’s old cell. Once there, she squatted, and peered down through the grille at Regina.

Regina was chained, but the chains were long, fixed to heavy bolts in the wall at one end, and bracelets at each of Regina’s wrists at the other. Even with the dagger, and all the power it brought, Emma was still scared of what Regina might do. She used her torch to stare down into the dark cell. Holding her breath.

The _clang_ came out of nowhere. Hard and fast. Regina had leapt from the floor and hit the grille, grabbing hold of it. Her whole body had smashed into the metal and now she hung by both chained wrists, her face up close to the metal, laughing at Emma, whose heart was racing, who had cried out in fear.

“Hey, baby,” Regina said. “Miss me?” Her skin glittering and the tongue that fluttered behind her teeth was like a lizard’s. She was so beautiful. More beautiful than before. Emma had never thought such a thing possible. That lizard tongue, Emma knew was beyond pleasure, beyond anything Regina could do with her mouth before. Dagger or not, a twist of the glittering forked thing could reduce Emma to begging and sobbing. 

And Regina could take almost anything now. Any pain, any torment. Could sweat through the harshest games Emma could dream up. Could even take a brand on her flesh and scream with pleasure. 

They had a dungeon and a torture chamber - it would take a lifetime to play with every method of inflicting pain that Rumpelstiltskin had supplied them with. Emma shivered. 

“How are you, demon?” she said with a low smile.

“Better now you’re here,” said Regina. Emma ducked her head to the grille and their lips met, harsh and snarling, both of them relishing the worst ways they could kiss each other through the rusted metal. Biting and spitting. When they broke apart, Regina whispered, “Are you going to hurt me today, darling? I do hope so.” 

And, insider her, Emma felt her son kick out.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Thanks for reading this dirty roller coaster of a story. It's my first multi-chapter Swan Queen story and it was really fun to write. The response (and, my god, the NUMBERS) - totally amazing. (I am used to tiny ships). 
> 
> I will write more Swan Queen. Maybe I'll wait a while before I start another long piece, but I'm always keen to write one shots (shoot me a prompt on tumblr). I have a couple of other long Once Upon a Time fics - but they are all m/m. HOWEVER I have had a couple of readers who like my Swan Queen stuff and don't read m/m REALLY enjoy Being for the Benefit of Mr Gold, so you could give that a try if you miss me. It has a strong background Swan Queen story - although, I appreciate as it is Golden Hook and Hook and Gold are not the fave characters of a lot of Swen.
> 
> (But I'm always pimping that fic because NO ONE reads Golden Hook and THEIR LOVE IS SO CANON.)
> 
> But thanks for reading and, like all fic writers, I adore comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates probably weekly, sometimes between thursday and sunday. 
> 
> If you enjoy my filthy fic, or have any questions, please leave a comment or come ask me on tumblr.
> 
> My tumblr http://mathildia.tumblr.com/ - or, you know, just come say hi. I love talking about fic.
> 
> My tag for this sort of thing http://mathildia.tumblr.com/tagged/swan-queen-filth


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